Dusk and Summer
by dee768nj
Summary: Complete! Alternate universe story of soulmates. College students Stephanie and Carlos meet and fall in love at age 19, are separated by circumstances and meet again ten years later. Babe HEA. Warning: smut, suspense, murder, angst, character death.
1. Don't Wait 1

**Dusk and Summer**

By Dee

_This is something new for me, an AU story that I hope will turn into a full-length. It's set to the songs from the great emo album Dusk and Summer by Dashboard Confessional._

_WARNING: Adult story, probably eventual smut and some angst._

_Disclaimer: Not my characters, not making any money. Recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich. Song lyrics belong to Chris Carrabba and Dashboard Confessional._

**Part 1—Don't Wait**

_Don't wait, don't wait  
The road is now a sudden sea  
And suddenly, you're deep enough  
To lay your armor down_

—_Chris Carrabba_

1

_Monday_

Carlos lay flat on his back in the hot May sunshine, baking and sweating the poison out of his system. He stared at the red glow on the inside of his eyelids and ruminated on the problems that had turned his life to shit in just a few short months.

Beside him, his younger brother Julio rolled from his stomach onto his side and sat up, stretching. "I'm sick of the beach. I need to move."

Julio's best friend Lester groaned and brought a hand to his forehead to shade his eyes from the bright sunlight, squinting up at him. "You got no money, bro, so just suck it up and veg on out here with us."

"I'm just gonna walk up on the boards a bit." Julio pushed up to his feet, hoisting his long board shorts up over his skin-and-bones ass and re-tying the string to keep them up. Carlos watched him push his dull, stringy dark-brown hair back behind his ears and noted the ribs protruding from his sides and the twig-thin legs. He marveled at how just a few months on meth could turn a healthy, toned body into a skeleton.

As Julio started across the beach, Carlos growled, "Go with him, Les. If you don't keep an eye out he'll be ripping off some little old lady's purse."

After watching Lester kick up sprays of sand in his hurry to catch up with Julio, Carlos lay back down, sighing and feeling like crap. This summer was looking to be the worst kind of hell, and there was nothing he could do except suck it up.

Just as he was starting to doze off, to escape from the ache in his chest for a few minutes, a shriek of laughter and a chorus of giggling brought him to abrupt consciousness. Sand sprayed over him, and he sat up with a jerk.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" A lithe, tanned body in a white bikini crouched down next to his blanket and slender fingers ran across his chest and abs, tracing the muscles while brushing off the sand. "I didn't mean to get sand all over you."

"No problem," Carlos muttered, using his arm to block her touch and brushing the sand away himself.

Tossing long, artistically sun-streaked blonde hair back behind her shoulders, the girl widened eyes of an intense emerald green color not possible in nature. "It was all Heather's fault." She jerked her shoulder at another tanned, bikinied body standing at the edge of the water watching them. "I'm Ashley, by the way."

"Carlos," he muttered, shaking the hand she extended and studying the cleavage presented as she leaned forward toward him. She was pretty and was really stacked. Maybe if he felt the urge later he'd give her a little tumble. Her body language told him she'd be amenable, and he hadn't had a woman in over a week, since he'd taken in Julio.

"Are you going to be here for the whole summer?" Ashley asked. "Heather and I are lifeguards and will be working the beach."

"Me, too. I'll see you around." Carlos dismissed her by lying back down and throwing his arm up to shield his eyes.

"Hey, a bunch of us are going to Mac's tonight. Why don't you meet us there?"

Carlos rolled his arm up to his forehead and squinted at her. The sun behind her generated a halo of blonde around her head, and her body in silhouette was slim and yet lush, with disproportionately large breasts. She was a bit young to have had implants, around his own age, he guessed, but looking her over, he wouldn't be surprised to find fine scarring beneath her breasts where the fakes were inserted.

"Maybe," he muttered and covered his eyes again.

"It's a date, then. See you there," Ashley said, taking the hint and moving off toward the water and her friend.

_oOo_

"Let's go up on the boards for a few minutes and cool off," Stephanie said. "There's bound to be a breeze up there and I'm sweating like a pig."

"Glowing, Steph," giggled Mary Lou. "Women don't sweat, they glow."

"Well, I'm freaking glowing like a pig."

"Thank God we don't have to be back until tomorrow morning," said Tina as the three of them walked up the ramp to the boardwalk. "Who knew waitressing was such hard work?"

"Yeah," agreed Stephanie, "and it's only May. Just wait until July and August when things really get busy."

The three girls, former classmates at Trenton Catholic High School, were working at a popular Point Pleasant restaurant for the summer, hoping to make enough in tips to offset the huge rent they were paying on a tiny apartment three blocks from the beach. If they were lucky and got great tips they'd even have some money saved up for the fall semester.

"You know, it really sucks that we have to serve drinks to customers at the restaurant but aren't old enough to drink ourselves." Tina frowned. "Do either of you have a fake ID?"

Mary Lou raised her hand, and was followed by Steph, looking guilty and saying, "My mom will kill me if she finds out."

"Well, I'll never tell," said Tina. "As long as you tell me where you got it so I can get one, too."

"I've got a friend at Rutgers who can hook you up. I'll give him a call later," Stephanie told her. "It's only fifty bucks, and it'll pass anywhere. He'll even put your actual name and address on it and just change the date of birth."

"Perfect," Tina replied.

As they reached the railing overlooking the ocean Stephanie pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair and shook her head, letting the cool salty breeze brush out the smell of fried seafood. Her hair was going to end up a huge mass of frizz, but she'd pull it back in a few minutes. It just felt so great having it loose.

She'd have to call her mom in a little while and tell her all about her first day of work. The restaurant was owned by Tina's Uncle Tommy Rosolli, and the connection to Trenton was the only reason her mother let her come. Her mom was intense in her over-protectiveness, and Stephanie felt lucky she'd even been allowed to go away to college. Now with a year under her belt, she wanted more independence, hence the summer job away from the stifling atmosphere and rigid propriety of the Chambersburg neighborhood where she grew up.

Stephanie's thoughts were interrupted by a male voice behind them. "Well, well, what have we here?"

_TBC_


	2. Don't Wait 2

**Don't Wait 2**

A hand took Mary Lou's arm and pulled her around to face the boardwalk. "Crabster's, huh? Are you girls a walking advertisement? Because you sure do make me want to eat something."

Shocked, Stephanie spun to face the voice as Mary Lou giggled and responded, "No, we work there. We're waitresses."

There were two guys standing there, both Latino with tan skin and dark, straight hair. The taller of the two was the talker. "How's the food? Do you get to eat whatever you want?"

Mary Lou giggled again. "We don't know. We just finished our first shift."

"I'm Lester Santos, but you can call me Les," the guy said, "and this is my best friend, Julio Manoso."

Stephanie studied the two. Lester was really good looking, with a contagious grin and a tall, slim, muscular build. He looked like a runner who worked out, with smooth, light-brown skin covering wiry muscles. Drool-worthy. His friend was rail-thin with razor-sharp, handsome features, but solemn, his face downcast, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

"Nice to meet you, Les, Julio. I'm Mary Lou Molnar, and this is Stephanie Plum, call her Steph, and Tina Rosolli." Mary Lou gestured as she introduced them. "Where are you guys from?"

"Newark," Les answered. "How about you?"

"We're from Trenton," Mary Lou said. "Tina and I go to Mercer County College and Steph goes to Rutgers."

Mary Lou didn't hesitate to blurt out personal information to these strangers, and it made Steph squirm. It had been ingrained in her since she was small that you didn't talk to strangers, especially not people who just walked up to you on the street. Or boardwalk. They might be kidnappers, or rapists. Her mother always said you can't be too careful, and she always was.

While her year of college had helped her begin to shed the constricting chain mail of Burg expectations and mores a little bit, she was still uncomfortable revealing too much until she got to know people better. These guys looked pretty harmless, probably students like them, although the skinny one looked kind of shifty. His eyes flickered from the ground up her body and back down, but his gaze never quite reached her face.

Mary Lou was still conversing with Lester. "Do you guys go to school?"

"We just graduated high school, Newark Catholic, and we both enlisted. We're starting basic training in September."

"Are you going to be here for the whole summer?"

"Yeah. We've got a room with Julio's brother. He's a lifeguard. But we're looking for jobs. Know of any?"

"I think my uncle is looking for a couple of busboys for the restaurant. It's not a lot of money, minimum wage, but you get a small share of the tips from the waitresses, so that helps. If you're interested I could introduce you."

Well, that would be okay, Stephanie thought. If the two of them got a job at the restaurant, then they wouldn't be strangers anymore. And Lester seemed like a fun, friendly guy with an open face and quick smile. After making arrangements to meet at the restaurant just before the start of the dinner rush, Lester and Julio moved on to the beach.

_oOo_

Carlos tried to relax on his blanket on the beach. His head was killing him, and he made the decision that his bedtime "cocktail" of booze and pills would have to stop. He'd been hiding it from Julio anyway, so it was best to just go cold turkey. He knew he had the strength, the self-control to do it. He'd done it before, more than once, to keep from becoming a slave to habit.

Julio was a completely different story.

It was something that couldn't wait, not even a day longer once Carlos found out. It was imperative to get Julio away from Newark for the summer, so Carlos enlisted Lester to spend the summer in Point Pleasant. As soon as they got here and found a room for the summer, Carlos put in his application for a lifeguard job. He was scheduled to take the certification test tomorrow morning, and expected it to be a piece of cake. Cocky of him, perhaps, but two summers as a lifeguard, first at one of the city pools in Miami and then on Miami Beach, gave him the experience and training to do the job anywhere.

He sighed again. It burned his butt that he was going to have to put out a hundred dollars for a CPR recertification class before he could even begin work. He could have made a hell of a lot more money up in Newark where he knew everyone and had his finger in a number of pies, some of them even legal. But he couldn't just abandon Julio to the ice habit that would destroy him if left unchecked.

So Carlos would spend his summer babysitting to keep Julio drug free, and then Julio would head for boot camp. Julio's dream since he discovered GI Joe at the age of six was to be an army Ranger, and he'd signed up with a recruiter in January, halfway through his senior year of high school. Then he'd started with the crank.

Even at not quite twenty, Carlos was an intelligent and persuasive man, a born leader, and he'd used his considerable logic to convince the recruiter that Julio wouldn't be ready for his physical and basic training until September. What he didn't share was that there was no way Julio would pass a drug test before then. And if Carlos didn't watch him like a hawk this summer, he wouldn't pass it in September, either.

He sat up and brought his knees to his chest, hunching forward and wrapping his arms around his legs, the sun gleaming off his brown shoulders. He rested his chin on his knees and stared out at the deep blue ocean, so vast and powerful. How had his road of life, so carefully mapped out, turned into a sea of misery and family obligations? If he was going to keep from drowning, he'd have to change his expectations, lay down his armor of self-centeredness and devote the summer to his brother. It was quite possibly the only way to save him. And if it meant deferring his own agenda for a few months, well that was the price you paid for family.

As he sat in mournful contemplation, the feeling of being watched struck him, rippling his arms with gooseflesh and making the back of his neck tingle.

_TBC_


	3. Don't Wait 3

**Don't Wait 3**

Carlos trusted his instincts, honed during a misspent youth on the mean streets of Newark and in the juvie halls of Yardville, Jersey's Garden State Youth Correctional Facility. He was sure someone was looking at him, studying him, judging him. He remained casual, tucking his feet under and rising gracefully to a standing position without using his hands, surveying his surroundings as he moved.

There weren't many people on the beach on this mid-May Monday. One family group several hundred yards away, with children busy digging in the sand; an older couple walking along the beach holding hands; a hard-bodied young woman jogging on the hard-packed sand at the edge of the water.

He swung around toward the boardwalk behind him, appearing relaxed and unconcerned, but with keen vision. Julio and Lester were standing in the loose sand at the bottom of the steps leading down to the beach, engaged in conversation with busty blonde Ashley and her friend. What was the friend's name? Carlos replayed his conversation with Ashley in his head. Heather. That was it.

Standing up on the boardwalk leaning against the railing and looking out at the water was a group of three girls, women, he corrected himself, probably college students like himself, working in Point Pleasant for the summer. All three were dark-haired and attractive, although their height and build and skin tone varied. They were dressed identically in short white shorts and black t-shirts with huge orange crab logos on the front proclaiming "Crabster's." They must be waitresses at that restaurant on the beach block behind them, taking a break after the lunch shift.

There were a few other couples strolling the boards, window shopping and ocean gazing, but no sign of any threat. After another sharp-eyed look around Carlos shrugged off the feeling of disquiet, picked up his blanket and ambled toward his brother.

As he neared the boardwalk, laughter rang out above him and he glanced up. The three waitresses had their heads together, doubled over with mirth, their arms clutching at each other. Carlos couldn't help but smile at the sight. They looked so free, so innocent, so happy. He envied them their carefree laughter, their lightness of being. And the chains that bound him, of brother, son, student, were cement blocks anchoring his feet, dragging him to the bottom of the morass to drown.

His desolate eyes met those of the girl in the center of the three and it was as if lightning struck him, stopping his heart. Eyes the clear, crystal blue of the sky caught him up, sucked him in, making him feel for a moment as if he were soaring like a seagull in the bright air of them. When his heart resumed it slammed against the walls of his chest and the blood buzzed and vibrated through his veins.

A huge mass of brown curls haloed her head, drifting and floating on the ocean breeze. Her lips were pink and pouty, full even as her mouth stretched wide with laughter. Translucent white skin, the color and texture of cream, appeared never to have seen the sun.

His eyes skimmed down her body. Even the ridiculous orange crab on her shirt couldn't hide the lushness of her curves, the perky breasts, the tiny waist, the rounded hips. And the very short shorts drew attention to endless slim, pale legs that gave him the sudden urge to lick his way up them.

But she had an innocence about her. This wasn't the kind of girl you screwed under the boardwalk in the dark. This was the kind you walked with in the light, the kind you took home to meet your mama and papa.

Carlos shook his head, tearing his eyes away before the stirring in his shorts became a full-fledged hard-on. What the hell? he thought. Why would this little white girl affect him so much? He must be going soft. She was pretty, certainly, but not supermodel gorgeous. And her curves weren't as abundant as some of the other bodies he'd seen on the beach.

Ashley's, for instance. And he realized Ashley had turned from Les and Julio and taken his arm, was holding it with an attitude of proprietorship, as if he belonged to her.

_oOo_

"Well, Les was pretty cool, but what was up with Skeletor?" Tina said after the two guys were out of earshot.

Stephanie and Mary Lou looked at Tina, then at each other, and all three burst into helpless laughter, doubled over with it. Skeletor, indeed. It was the perfect moniker for the silent, surly and scrawny Julio.

As she straightened up and looked down at the group on the beach, Stephanie felt like she'd been hit by a brick, right between the eyes. Oh… my… God… she thought, a shiver working its way from the tips of her toes all the way up to the top of her head as she locked eyes with the most gorgeous man ever to grace the Point Pleasant beach.

He was Adonis incarnate, a work of art sculpted by the gods.

Tall, at least six feet, he was built like a brick shithouse, muscles on muscles defining a physique that could only be described as perfection. His skin was a warm mocha latte that she wanted to drink in, lap up, and his almost black hair was long and tousled, not quite touching his shoulders, with stray locks curving down to frame his face.

And what a face it was—a portrait of such outrageous beauty that she was certain a fallen angel had swept down from heaven to conquer her. His lips were full and firm, his nose narrow and straight, his cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. But a bleak unhappiness filled his dark, thick-lashed Latino eyes, beseeching her to kiss away the pain, make it all better.

As Stephanie stared open-mouthed at the vision of male splendor, he shook his head, rejecting even the sight of her, she thought, and turned to the blonde bimbo with the big boobs and the bitty bikini who must be his girlfriend. She took his arm and drew him into the confab with Les and Skeletor, Julio, she reminded herself. Mustn't get into the habit of thinking of him as Skeletor.

She studied the resemblance between Julio and the Adonis. It was unmistakable. This had to be the brother Les had mentioned, the lifeguard. Stephanie wafted away into a vision of drowning, the waves washing over her, beginning to go down for the third time and being cradled in muscled brown arms, embraced against a heavenly chest…

"Steph… Steph, wake up." Mary Lou's voice penetrated the stupor Stephanie had fallen into.

"Huh?"

"Come on," Tina urged. "Let's go back to the apartment and wash away the smell. It's going to really suck if we smell like fried fish all summer. There might not be enough tips in the world."

"Yeah," Mary Lou agreed. "And I need to rest. My dogs are killing me."

Stephanie sighed away the thought of the Adonis and followed her friends down the boardwalk.

_TBC_


	4. Don't Wait 4

**Don't Wait 4**

"Hey, Mom." Stephanie leaned back and pulled her legs up under her in the wicker chair on the front porch of the big old white house on Green Street. She was freshly showered, her hair free of the greasy fried food smell and pulled back into a damp, curly ponytail.

"Stephanie Michelle Plum, I've been waiting all day for you to call. Did you start work?"

"Yup. Mary Lou, Tina and I worked the lunch shift. We finished at two."

"How did it go? Was Tommy Rosolli there?"

"It went fine. Uncle Tommy was there and showed us the ropes."

"I hope you ate a decent breakfast before going to work. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know. It provides a foundation."

"I had a nice big breakfast." After she finished her shift at Crabster's. Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast. Her mother wouldn't approve, Stephanie knew, but what happens in Point Pleasant stays in Point Pleasant.

"Are you all unpacked? I don't know how you girls are going to manage in such a small place."

Her parents had driven Stephanie and Tina to Point Pleasant the day before, the trunk of the car jam-packed with suitcases full of clothes and trash bags full of bedding and other necessities. Stephanie's mom wasn't at all happy with the tiny, one-bedroom apartment in the big old house, and it took some fast talking to prevent Mrs. Plum from dragging Stephanie right back to Trenton. As it was, Mrs. Plum spent over an hour with the two girls, cleaning, scrubbing floors, disinfecting the kitchen and scouring down the miniscule bathroom before she even let them bring their things upstairs. Mary Lou lucked out, Stephanie thought, by arriving with her parents after the slave labor was completed to her mother's satisfaction.

"We're all settled in, Mom. Mr. & Mrs. Molnar took us to WalMart last night in their van and we each bought one of those plastic storage thingies with drawers. They fit right next to the bathroom door, so that gives us each a place to keep our makeup and, uh, personal stuff so the bathroom's not all cluttered up."

"Who's going to have to sleep on the couch?"

"It opens up into a bed, so it's not really like sleeping on the couch. Mary Lou said she snores, so she volunteered to take it. Tina and I have the bedroom."

Stephanie wasn't about to tell her mother that the reason Mary Lou wanted the living room was because her fiancé, Lennie, would be coming down every weekend and staying over. They were getting married in the fall, and they spent every possible minute together. Her mother wouldn't approve. It gave Stephanie a small pang of guilt, but what her mom didn't know wouldn't hurt her. And it wasn't like Stephanie was sleeping with a guy herself.

"Now Stephanie, I want you to promise me you'll check the door and all the windows every night before you go to bed and make sure everything is locked up tight and the chain is on. It's a lot more dangerous being in a city like Point Pleasant than living in a dorm at college, so you need to make sure you're safe. There are a lot of bad people out there."

"Don't worry, Mom. We'll keep the door locked, and nobody's going to be able to get in the windows on the second floor."

"But the porch roof is right outside your bedroom. Somebody could climb up and get in."

"We're thinking of chipping in and buying a little window air conditioner, so that'll fit in the window and it won't be a problem."

"Your father and I thought we'd come down to see you on the weekend, just to make sure everything's okay."

"That would be great, but the weekends are the busiest time at the restaurant and I'm scheduled to work all day Saturday and all day Sunday. So I wouldn't really be able to spend any time with you. But if you want to come eat dinner, maybe I could wait on you."

"Well, we'll think about it. I just want to make sure you're safe there."

"I'll be fine, Mom. I have to work both lunch and dinner tomorrow, so I probably won't call you, but I'm off Wednesday so I'll call you then."

Stephanie hung up the phone and sighed as she trudged up the stairs to the apartment. She was nineteen-and-a-half years old, an adult in the eyes of the law. Why couldn't her mother trust her to take care of herself?

_oOo_

Carlos exhaled as he exited the bathroom wearing only a towel and walked down the hall to the room he'd rented for the summer. The instant they'd walked through the door after returning from the beach, Julio swung himself up to the top bunk and rolled to face the wall, and he hadn't moved since.

"Okay, Les, go ahead," Carlos said, watching as Lester grabbed a towel and took off out the door. With Julio just a few days off the ice, Carlos didn't dare leave him alone for even a minute. If he got away, he'd pick somebody's pocket or steal some little old lady's purse and be high before you could say Speedy Gonzales. It was lucky Carlos was such a light sleeper, awake and alert in an instant if anyone moved in the bedroom, because he had to stop Julio from sneaking out three times last night.

He'd even stood outside the bathroom door every time Julio was in there, keeping his ear primed for the scrape of the window being raised. He was going to have to stop at the hardware store and get a lock to keep the bathroom window from opening all the way. It wasn't a very big window, but Julio was snake-thin and just might be able to slither through.

The whole busboy job idea had him a bit edgy. It would be so easy to just slip out of the restaurant, and Les wouldn't be able to watch him every second. Carlos resigned himself to having to sit outside for at least the first week or two and watch the door. He wondered if he'd ever be able to trust Julio again. Just three-and-a-half months, he told himself. He'd devote the next three-and-a-half months to his brother and then he could get back to his own life.

"Julio, you need to get a shower so you can go over to the restaurant to see about the job," Carlos said as Lester walked back into the room in his towel.

No answer.

"Julio!" Carlos made his voice sharp.

"Don't need to shower. Need to sleep," Julio mumbled without moving.

"Don't make me get physical with you, bro." Carlos's voice was a growl. "I don't want to have to pull you off of there, but I will."

"And I'll help," Lester chimed in.

Julio groaned and rolled over, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed and sliding down to the floor.

As Carlos leaned against the wall outside the bathroom door with his arms crossed over his chest, he relaxed but kept his ears focused. Even with the shower running, he was sure he'd hear if Julio opened the window. It had been painted multiple times, and made a loud grating noise when you raised or lowered the sash.

His mind drifted to the Crabster's waitress with the curly hair, wondering if she'd be there with her friend later. It didn't matter. His lifestyle didn't lend itself to relationships, even before the problems with Julio, and he shrugged his shoulders to try to shake her out of his head.

But even the brief thought of her had him half hard. Damn, he was going to have to do something about that. But _not_ Ashley, the blonde lifeguard, he decided. He'd had to literally pry her hands off his arm this afternoon, and even then she kept touching him with intimate little rubs and pats until he left the beach. He was going to have enough trouble keeping her off him without making the humongous mistake of fucking her. He'd again muttered, "Maybe," when she mentioned meeting up at Mac's tonight, but he had no intention of showing up there. He couldn't take Julio to a bar, even one where they also catered to the under-age crowd. Too many possible ways for him to get away or get high.

After fifteen minutes he pounded on the bathroom door, then opened it a crack. "Come on, Julio. Time to go get a job."

_TBC_


	5. Don't Wait 5

**Don't Wait 5**

"Gentlemen, today we go to war," Lester said, a grin splitting his face and showing rows of even, white teeth. "Julio, are you ready to kick ass and sign on to earn the big bucks clearing tables and pouring glasses of water?"

Julio made a noncommittal sound, his head hanging and posture slumping as they walked up the block toward the restaurant.

The huge orange three-dimensional crab rotated high overhead proclaiming "Crabster's" to city, beach and boardwalk alike. Hell, thought Carlos, the thing was so damn big that when it was lit up at night it could probably be seen from space. If a hurricane happened to hit the coast, it would blow straight to Cleveland.

"We're a little early," Lester said, glancing at his watch.

"I wanted to scope out the place anyway," Carlos said. "You can wait here for your waitress." He indicated a bench, one of several along the front and sides of the building where customers could take a load off while they were waiting to be seated during the busy weekend evenings.

"And Julio," Carlos added, "don't even think about trying to split."

He strolled through the small parking lot around to the back of the building and along the other side. This just might do, he thought. There were only two doors, the double front doors where customers entered, and a wide door on the side near the back for the staff and deliveries. He could watch both doors from a position at the far side of the parking lot by the tall board fence. There was no way Julio could exit the building without being seen.

He walked over to the potential surveillance spot and leaned against the fence that separated Crabster's from the new-looking condo next door, checking out the situation and noting the position of the streetlights. While it was still light he could change his location every little while in case someone noticed him standing there, although the setting sun would throw him into deep shadow along the fence. There was a bench across the street where he could sit and still see both doors, as well. And once it was dark there was a small jog in the fence where he could lurk unseen, sheltered from passing headlights.

He crossed his arms and remained angled against the fence. That sudden feeling of someone watching him prickled at the back of his neck, and he scanned the area, seeing nobody except Lester and Julio. Sidling to the end of the fence he peered through a narrow gap in the boards and saw the three waitresses from this afternoon, brightly colored tank tops replacing the crab shirts, walking up Third Street. He pulled back and they passed by without noticing him there in the shadows, his eyes following them across the parking lot to the side door of the restaurant.

Lester jumped up as they approached, grinning, his mouth moving, and the music of feminine laughter rang out. Sometimes Carlos envied Lester his easy attitude and extroverted personality. Carlos was a quiet, self-contained young man, and often found himself at a loss for words with women. It never seemed to matter to them, though; he never had any trouble getting one in the sack when he felt the inclination, and at this point in his life he wasn't looking for anything more.

He watched as the shortest, roundest of the three waitresses hooked one arm through Lester's and one through Julio's and pulled them to the side door. The other two girls sat down on the bench nearest that door and turned toward each other, their mouths moving and smiles on their faces.

Carlos couldn't tear his eyes away from the slim pale one. Her curls were pulled back into a ponytail, but wisps had escaped and floated around her face in the slight breeze. Without even realizing he was doing it, he pushed away from the wall and started across the parking lot toward the two girls.

_oOo_

"Aha, here are the three prettiest waitresses in New Jersey," Lester said, causing Stephanie, Mary Lou and Tina to giggle. He was full of shit, thought Stephanie, but charming nevertheless.

"Are you guys ready to meet my uncle?" asked Tina. "If he didn't hire anyone after we left this afternoon, I'm sure you'll get the jobs."

"Ready when you are, sweetheart," said Lester, offering Tina his arm. Grabbing hold of it and hooking her other arm around Julio's, Tina led them to the employee entrance of the restaurant.

"What do you think of Lester?" Mary Lou asked Stephanie as they settled on the bench in the late afternoon sun. "He's really good looking, and friendly, and only a year younger than us. Don't you think he and Tina make a cute couple?"

"I don't know, Lou," Stephanie said. "He seems like a bit too much of a player to me, you know, the flirty, love-'em-and-leave-'em type. I wouldn't want to see Tina get hurt again."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Mary Lou sighed. "It would just be great if she could find someone to take her mind off that jackass, Louis Morelli." Louis was Tina's boyfriend all through high school, but she caught him cheating on her a few months before and told him to go straight to hell.

The Morelli men were known for not being able to keep their dicks in their pants. Nobody knew that better than Stephanie, who'd been relieved of her virginity by Louis's cousin Joe when she was just sixteen. As if Joe walking away without a backward glance wasn't bad enough, then he thoroughly humiliated her by writing a poem about the experience on the men's room wall in the sub shop. Even though she got him back last year by almost killing him with her Dad's car, the Morelli name still made Stephanie cringe and sent the blood rushing to her head.

A sudden jolt hit Stephanie right between the shoulder blades and she jerked her head up to look around. In the slanting sunlight shining right in her eyes, she saw a silhouette seeming to glide across the parking lot toward her, and the tingling feeling raced its way up to the back of her neck. As the figure got closer she recognized the Adonis from the beach, the one she thought was Julio's brother. He looked like a gang-banger, dressed in loose black shorts and a long, baggy black t-shirt, his face painted by shadows, and a ripple of fear fluttered her heart.

Mary Lou clutched at Stephanie's arm. "Omigod, who's that?" she hissed, but Stephanie was unable to utter a word, mesmerized like a wild animal in the glare of a hunter's spotlight.

The apparition walked right up to them and stood directly in front of Stephanie, looking down at her with eyes as black and bottomless as the deepest cavern.

"I'm Carlos Manoso," he said.

_TBC_


	6. Don't Wait 6

**Don't Wait 6**

Never at a loss for words, Mary Lou jumped up and held out her hand to the man in black. "Oh, you must be Julio's brother, right? Pleased to meet you, Carlos. I'm Mary Lou Molnar, and this is Stephanie Plum."

Carlos shook Mary Lou's hand and then turned to Stephanie as Mary Lou pulled her to her feet. When he took Stephanie's hand, the shock of his touch sang through her, setting flesh and blood and bone humming. Standing next to her, Mary Lou could feel the vibration.

"Stephanie," Carlos murmured, his voice low and husky. His full, firm lips curved at the corners, and while he still held her right hand in his, he reached up with his left hand and tucked a curl that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear.

Mary Lou was frozen in place, wide eyed, her mouth open, staring at Carlos and Stephanie as they remained hand in hand, eyes locked. The powerful current between them crackled in the surrounding air, and Mary Lou thought if she touched either of them she'd get electrocuted.

After an eternity, Stephanie finally got out a single word. "Carlos," she breathed, and it broke the spell. He released her hand and she all but collapsed back down onto the bench, her knees too weak to hold her.

Mary Lou sat down beside her and spoke to Carlos. "Are you waiting for Julio and Lester? You can sit and wait with us if you want."

Carlos didn't say anything, but settled on the other side of Stephanie, his bare upper arm brushing against hers causing her to flinch and suck in a shuddering breath.

"So Carlos," Mary Lou began, uncomfortable with the sexual tension arcing between the two and trying to regain a sense of normalcy, "Les told us you're a lifeguard."

Carlos inclined his head a tiny bit in what Mary Lou took to be a nod.

"Have you started working yet?"

"No."

"When are you starting?"

"Not sure."

Wow, Mary Lou thought, two whole words that time. She gave up and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

Loud music pealed from Stephanie's purse, driving her to leap up with a startled squeak. The bag went crashing to the ground and she snatched it up and rummaged around in it, feeling clumsy and awkward.

Carlos watched her frantic fumbling and the corner of his mouth twitched just the slightest bit. "Babe," he said under his breath, but she heard him.

Finally Stephanie's hand closed on the phone and, fearful it would switch to voicemail any second, she punched the talk button without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" Her voice changed from inquiring to intimate. "Hey, you… How'd your first day go?" She walked away from Carlos and Mary Lou as she talked.

"It must be Dickie, her boyfriend," Mary Lou said to Carlos. "He just graduated from Rutgers and is going to Princeton Law in the fall."

Carlos didn't say anything but he was thinking, idiot, of course she has a boyfriend. A woman like that wouldn't be single. There are probably guys lined up six deep looking for a date with her.

"Are you all students?" he asked, pretending polite interest but really wanting to know about Stephanie.

The simple question was enough to set Mary Lou off into a long discourse on how they'd all gone to high school together in Trenton and where they were going to college and what they were studying. Mary Lou was taking general studies, but was engaged and busy planning an October wedding. Carlos had been so focused on Stephanie that he hadn't even noticed the modest diamond sparkling on Mary Lou's ring finger.

"Very nice," he commented when she held it out for inspection.

Tina was at the same community college in a nursing program. And Stephanie was majoring in business at the main Rutgers campus in New Brunswick and doing the Douglass leaders of tomorrow program for women, according to Mary Lou.

Carlos mulled that over. He was studying business himself, at the Newark campus of Rutgers, and he was a year ahead of Stephanie. Maybe he could use that somehow to get closer to her, help her study in the fall. He wasn't really worried about competition from someone named Dickie, even if he was going to Princeton Law.

He caught himself, berated himself. Jesus Christ, what the hell am I, some lovesick college boy? He jumped to his feet, leaving Mary Lou sitting there alone with her mouth open, and paced around the side of the restaurant, away from where Stephanie stood at the far side of the parking area, still on the phone with the dickhead. He strode all the way around the building and Mary Lou started when he rounded the corner back to her. He ignored her and kept going around the building a second time and a third, his mind racing.

"I'm not going to take this lying down," he muttered to himself. Stephanie had bewitched him, that was it, used her evil siren powers to take control of his mind. He had to get Lester and Julio and get away from her. He knew he was being ridiculous, but still, he needed to put some distance between them. He couldn't think straight with her right there.

After his fourth circuit of the building, the short curvaceous one, Tina, he reminded himself, was back outside and Stephanie was coming across the parking lot toward them, replacing her phone in her purse.

Carlos stopped his agitated walking and Mary Lou introduced him to Tina. He nodded and shook her hand, asking, "Are Julio and Les still inside?"

Tina stared at him, a little bamboozled, and he wondered what kind of nurse she'd make if she was so easily flustered.

Mary Lou, still apparently the spokesperson for the three, answered for Tina. "They're filling out paperwork and getting their schedule for this week. They got hired."

"Ready?" Stephanie asked, keeping her distance from Carlos and refusing to look at him, as if she were afraid he was going to grab her. He thought about it, taking in her full, soft mouth, wondering how it would taste. She parted her lips a little, the tip of her pink tongue darting out to moisten them, and Carlos took an abrupt seat on the bench, forearms on knees to conceal the erection that sprang up like a jack-in-the-box.

Mary Lou showed her good manners, turning to Carlos. "Well, we're heading up to the boardwalk. It was nice meeting you. I'm sure we'll be seeing you around."

Carlos watched the three walk away, his eyes fixed on Stephanie's heart-shaped ass and long, slim legs, and when they turned the corner at the front of the building he leaned back and huffed out a big sigh of relief.

_TBC_


	7. Don't Wait 7

**Don't Wait 7**

"Wowie zowie!" exclaimed Mary Lou as they walked up the wooden ramp onto the boardwalk. "That's the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen in my entire life. And Steph, what the hell was going on with you two?"

"I… I don't know. Nothing," Stephanie answered.

"Are you kidding me?" Mary Lou was incredulous. "There was so much heat between the two of you I could have cooked an omelet! When he touched your hair I thought I was going to faint."

"Me, too," Stephanie said. "But there's really nothing. I saw him on the beach this afternoon, and maybe we had a moment, but it didn't mean anything. I don't even know him, and he has a girlfriend, a blonde with really big boobs. Anyway, Dickie's going to try to come down Friday night after work."

"When are you going to give in and sleep with him?" asked Tina. "You've been dating him now for what? Three months? And he's hot."

"I don't know," Stephanie said. "I'm not comfortable enough with him yet. He's so much older, so confident, and he knows exactly what he wants out of life. It's only been two months, not three, and I'm just not ready."

"At this rate you're never going to be ready," Mary Lou said. "You can't pine over Joseph Morelli forever. He may have been your first, but if you let him be your last you're giving him a power he doesn't deserve. It's been three years, for God's sake! It's time to move on."

"That bastard!" Stephanie exclaimed. "I'm _not_ pining over him. But I _am_ still supremely pissed off. What he did to me was just… just… _obscene_! One broken leg doesn't even begin to repay him for humiliating me in front of the whole Burg. Not to mention getting grounded for the whole fricking summer."

"Typical Morelli behavior." Tina's voice was bitter. "Fuck 'em and leave 'em."

"Oh, Tina, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you of the asshole." Contrite, Mary Lou put an arm around Tina's shoulder and gave her a brief squeeze.

"Hey, look at these earrings," Steph said, changing the subject by stopping at the window of a small shop. "They're really cute. Let's go in and look."

Stephanie checked her wallet as they entered the store. All the money she had was in there, just over a hundred dollars, and it would have to last her until they got their first paycheck, not until a week from Friday. But she'd probably get some tips, and they could save on food by eating one good meal a day while working at the restaurant. So she guessed she could afford a pair of earrings if they weren't too expensive.

As she started to put the wallet away, she stopped and examined the picture that was right on top. It was Dickie's senior picture, taken last fall for the Rutgers yearbook. A tiny smile kissed her lips as she thought about him. His blonde good looks and tall, broad-shouldered physique were everything she could ask for in a guy.

Her mother was so thrilled when she heard Stephanie had a date with Dickie. In Mrs. Plum's mind he was quite a catch, not only a local boy from the Burg, but also studying to be a lawyer, destined to be someone important in Trenton. He wanted to eventually run for City Council and maybe even the State Legislature. The ideal match for Stephanie, and marrying him would increase her prestige, and thus that of her family.

Stephanie didn't give a crap about social status or how important Dickie would be someday. But he was so nice to her, polite and solicitous of her feelings. His goodnight kisses gave her warm fuzzies, and when she squirmed away from his hand on her breast on their fourth date, he backed off right away.

"It's not that I don't like you," she explained, her breath catching. "It just feels like it's too soon. I'm not ready yet."

After that Dickie stopped making physical advances, although he still curled her toes with his kisses. He was just perfect, she thought, willing to wait until she was comfortable with taking their relationship to the next level.

Stephanie, Mary Lou and Tina each bought a pair of silver earrings in the little shop and sauntered back out onto the boardwalk, continuing their way north.

An arm draped over Stephanie's shoulder and a hard body insinuated itself between her and Mary Lou. "Hey, gorgeous, how about a bite?"

_oOo_

"Gainfully employed," announced Lester with a smirk as he and Julio approached Carlos, who had resumed his position leaning against the fence at the far side of the Crabster's parking lot.

"Good," said Carlos, relieved that they'd found jobs together.

"Only one little problem." The smile dropped from Lester's face. "Until Memorial Day, they only want one of us per dinner shift, except Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. So we'll each be working alone weeknights starting tomorrow, taking turns. It's not a lot of hours, either, five to nine weeknights, five to ten weekends."

"How about after Memorial Day?" asked Carlos.

"Then we each work six nights a week, five to ten, but with different days off. One of us will be off Tuesdays and the other Wednesdays."

"Sounds okay."

"Yeah, and our days will be free to relax on the beach, work on our tans and pick up chicks." Lester's grin was infectious, and even Julio smiled faintly.

"Good," Carlos said. "What do you want to do for dinner?"

"Pizza," said Lester. "Mack and Manco's."

"Okay, let's go." Carlos had been busy sitting on the bench trying to think of anything else but Stephanie Plum's boundless blue eyes, so he hadn't looked around the side of the building to see which way the girls went on the boardwalk. But Mack and Manco's, a boardwalk institution, was to the left, so they turned that way.

"I'm starved," said Lester. "It's early, but I wouldn't mind eating now." They had no food at all in their room, so a hotdog had served as both breakfast and lunch when they got to the beach a little before noon.

The three good-looking Latinos attracted a small flurry of attention on the boardwalk. Lester preened and winked in response to female calls of "Hey there, hot stuff," and "What's up, big boy?" while Julio sulked and Carlos appeared oblivious. His face remained blank, and the few women that dared approach him took one look at his expression and slunk away without a word.

"Aha," Lester said, scooting ahead of the Manoso brothers and sliding in between two tanktop-clad females up ahead, an arm around each of them.

Even from behind, Carlos recognized the curly ponytail and the mile-long legs. The pins and needles worked their way across his skin, tightening his balls and twitching his cock. Oh, crap, he thought, suppressing a shudder.

_TBC_


	8. Don't Wait 8

**Don't Wait 8**

Carlos felt as much as saw Stephanie stiffen when he and Julio came up behind her, and the shiver that passed through her continued straight into him.

"Wow, that's really nice of you," Mary Lou was saying, "but it's not necessary."

"But we want to, right, guys?" Lester swung all four of them around to face the two Manosos, his arms still around Stephanie and Mary Lou and his hand on Tina's shoulder on the other side of Mary Lou.

Carlos raised an eyebrow at Lester, while Julio just stood silent and morose.

"We need to treat these lovely ladies to pizza to thank them for helping us get jobs so quickly, don't we, Julio?"

Julio just moved one shoulder in what might have been a shrug.

"So Mack and Manco's it is," Lester said, swinging the three girls back around and guiding them down the boardwalk, leaving Carlos and Julio to follow in silence.

Carlos watched as the awkwardness of staying in step caused Lester to release Mary Lou and Tina, but he kept his arm around Stephanie, turning to say something in a low voice that only she could hear. The red creeping up the back of her neck infuriated him, and he vowed to himself that Stephanie wasn't going to be one of Lester's legions of one-night stands if he had anything to say about it.

When they reached Mack and Manco's, Lester was forced to release Stephanie so they could pass through the door single file, but he made a great show of holding the door for her, bowing with a flourish and saying, "Entre vous, mon petite cher."

There was a row of wide booths along one side of the restaurant, and Carlos edged Lester aside to lead them to the back booth. A jerk of his head had Julio sliding into the corner, and Carlos placed a hand in the small of Stephanie's back to guide her in next to Julio. A subtle move blocked Lester from sitting down next to her, and Carlos took that seat himself, noting the trembling of her fingers on the menu when his thigh settled against hers.

Lester almost pouted, but then said, "Ladies," with a flourish, seating Mary Lou and Tina first and taking his place across from Carlos. He snaked an arm around Tina and said, "Anything you want, beautiful, on me," with a lascivious wink.

Tina giggled and leaned into him, nudging his chest with her shoulder. "I'll take one of these, with chocolate sauce."

Stephanie remained silent, watching the flirtatious interplay across the table. Bad seating arrangements, she thought, with the two silent brothers on each side of her, and the three talkers side-by-side-by-side opposite them.

She wondered if there was a chance for Tina and Lester to get together. He made her a little uncomfortable with his touching and his suggestive comments. She was glad Carlos had stepped in front of Lester to take the seat next to her himself, even though his nearness was playing hell with her hormones. She didn't know what it was about him, but he had her vibrating like a guitar string, building a slow, steady simmer of arousal in her belly.

She'd never felt like this with anyone before. It wasn't like this with Dickie, as much as his kisses made her dizzy and weak. And it certainly hadn't been like this with Joe Morelli and his wham-bam taking of her virginity on the floor of the Tasty Pastry. Even though she'd been wet and ready for him after a couple of deep, tongue-in-the-mouth kisses, he hadn't taken the time to please her. He just rolled on a condom and plunged in, thrusting away in spite of her cry of pain. And then he was surprised when he saw the blood. Asshole, she thought, pissed off again just thinking about it.

"Something wrong, Babe?" Carlos murmured, turning to study her face, his arm slipping across the back of the booth behind her shoulders.

"No, nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Thought I heard you growl."

Stephanie giggled. Maybe she had growled. She tended to when she thought about Joe. "Sorry," she said. "I was just thinking about someone I'm really angry with."

"Do you need help with payback? Because I know some people…" The corner of his mouth twitched a little, and she knew he was kidding.

Her smile glowed, and her eyes sparkled. "Thanks, but I took care of it."

Carlos raised an eyebrow at her. "How?" he asked, not believing this gorgeous woman capable of the kind of payback he was thinking of.

Stephanie grinned. "I hit him with my father's Buick and broke his leg."

Carlos's smile lit up the room, and the waitress, just approaching with a tray containing their drinks, took one look and dropped the whole tray on the floor, her mouth hanging open. The plastic glasses clattered and bounced on the floor and Coke splashed all over Lester's legs.

Lester leaped up from his seat, cursing and hopping, Coke dripping down his legs into his sneakers.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," the pretty red-haired waitress said. "Stay right there and I'll get a wet towel for you."

She hurried off and returned in a moment with a damp cloth. "Did I get you?" she asked Carlos, crouching down with one hand on his knee, fingers sliding up inside his shorts to his thigh, using her other hand to dab at his bare legs.

He grabbed her wrist to get her hand off his leg and used it to turn her away from him. "I'm fine. _He_…" inclining his head at Lester, "needs the clean-up job."

The three girls were almost hysterical with laughter by this point, enjoying the sight of the cocky Lester getting outright ignored by the pretty waitress. By the time Lester was wiped off and the seat was cleaned so he could sit back down, everyone at the table was relaxed, and they chatted through the meal.

_oOo_

"Let's stop for ice cream, our treat," Mary Lou said after the six of them finished dinner and spent an entertaining hour in the arcade.

Stephanie was still quivering with Carlos's nearness. When he said, "Here, Babe, like this," and put his arms around her to help her steady and aim the target rifle, she swayed and nearly hyperventilated. He was hot and hard, all over, and she had the insane urge to turn in his arms and kiss him.

Idiot, she told herself. He's just being a nice guy. He still hadn't talked much, but his silence seemed comfortable to her. He was starting to feel like a friend.

They ordered ice cream, and Stephanie opened her shoulder bag to get out her share of the money. After groping around in the big canvas hobo for a minute, she sat down at a small table and dumped out the contents.

Looking up at her friends, her vivid blue eyes glistening with tears, a look of panic etching her face, she gasped, "My wallet's gone."

_TBC_


	9. Don't Wait 9

**Don't Wait 9**

"Are you sure, Steph?" asked Mary Lou, her warm hazel eyes crinkled in concern.

Gesturing at the table covered with cell phone, digital camera, pens, notepad, hairbrush, makeup, and a plastic case containing a couple of tampons, Stephanie held the empty bag wide open. "That's all the money I had to last me until we get paid." Her voice quavered with unshed tears.

"Stay here," Carlos said, taking control of the situation without hesitation. "Lester, Julio, with me."

Carlos started to stride out the door, but then turned back. He put his hand on Stephanie's shoulder and bent down, his mouth close to her ear, his voice low. "Don't cry, Babe. We'll find it. Just wait here."

_oOo_

Carlos led Lester and Julio away from the ice cream shop back toward the arcade. As soon as they were far enough away to be unobserved if one of the girls stepped out onto the boardwalk, Carlos grabbed a big handful of the front of Julio's t-shirt and jerked him around a corner onto a ramp leading down to a side street. Ignoring a family that scuttled away at the sight of him manhandling the smaller Julio, Carlos slammed him up against a wall.

"You asshole," he gritted out. "I know you took it."

"No," Julio protested, but his weak objection was no match for Carlos's fury. He smashed Julio against the wall again, Julio's head snapping back and hitting with a hollow thud. Carlos held him with one hand and cocked his fist back.

"Carlos," Lester said, putting a hand on his arm. "Don't. He'll have it on him somewhere."

Carlos lowered his arm and made an obvious effort to regain control, his jaw tense and his movements jerky. "Assume the position," he growled, spinning Julio around and slamming his hands against the wall. Carlos checked his pockets first, and finding nothing at all in them, not even Julio's own empty wallet, he began patting him down.

"Fuck," Carlos said when he got to Julio's most intimate area. There was a thick bundle between his legs, just behind his balls. Carlos reached into the back of Julio's pants without ceremony and pulled out the wad of money.

"Fuck," said Carlos again. "How much cash do you have, Les? We can't give this back to Stephanie after it's been practically in the asshole's ass."

"Shit," said Lester, digging into his wallet even as Carlo pulled out his own. Between them they managed to duplicate the bills, folding the ass-bills inside out and shoving them into their own wallets. Carlos put the clean cash into the front pocket of his baggy black cargo shorts.

"Now," he said, his hand wrapped back up in the front of Julio's shirt. "You're going to take us to where you dumped the wallet."

Julio started to open his mouth, and Carlos snapped, "Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another word from you. Just take us to the damn wallet."

He swung Julio off the wall and gave him a shove onto the boardwalk that made Julio stumble and almost fall. Sullen faced, Julio led the small parade of now frightening Latinos back to the arcade, to a large, swing-top trash can near where they'd been target shooting.

Carlos lifted the lid off the can and dropped it on the floor so they could all look in. There, on top of empty soda cups and crumpled snack wrappers, lay a black ladies' wallet. Grabbing Julio by the back of the neck, Carlos pushed him over the can, snarling, "If you don't want to go dumpster diving, you'll reach in there and get that wallet and hand it to me. _Now._"

When Carlos took the wallet from Julio's shaking hands, he flipped it open. Right on top, visible every time she opened the wallet, Stephanie had a guy's picture, obviously the boyfriend. _Dickie._ Carlos studied the picture. A big, good-looking guy grinned out at him, neatly trimmed dark blonde hair topping a square, handsome face with large, perfect teeth and a cleft chin. Yeah, a definite dickhead, Carlos thought as he stuffed the cash back into the wallet. Fuck.

_oOo_

"How long have they been gone?" Stephanie asked, still tearful. "Shouldn't they have come back by now?"

"It's only been ten minutes, Steph," Mary Lou said, glancing up at the big clock on the wall of the ice cream parlor.

"They probably can't find it." Stephanie's head hung down and her shoulders drooped. "They'll probably never find it."

"Sure they will, Steph. You'll see," Tina said, looking at her own watch.

A sudden thought occurred to Stephanie. "What if they took it? We don't really know them at all. Maybe they're thieves and they just made friends with us to take what they can get."

"Snap out of it, Steph!" Mary Lou barked. "They bought us dinner, for Pete's sake! They wouldn't have spent money on us if they were just trying to steal from us."

"There was a lot more money in my wallet than they spent on dinner." Stephanie's eyes filled with tears again. "Maybe we should go back to Mack and Manco's and see if it fell out of my purse onto the floor there. Maybe somebody found it and turned it in."

"Let's wait a few more minutes for Carlos to come back," Tina said. "I'll go look and see if they're coming."

Tina walked out onto the boardwalk and stared north, eyes searching for the tall, muscular figure in black. After a minute she sighed and returned to the small table. "Their ice cream is all melty," she said. "I'm going to eat some of it."

"Come on, Steph." Mary Lou handed Stephanie a spoon. "You eat Carlos's frozen yogurt. He'd want you to have it. I'm having Lester's chocolate."

All three girls shoveled ice cream into their mouths as if the fate of womanhood depended on it, and perhaps it did.

Stephanie looked up with her spoon halfway to her mouth. "Carlos," she breathed, jumping up and dropping the spoon back into the cup.

Carlo held out her wallet with a two-hundred-watt smile.

Stephanie flung herself into his arms, the sobs she'd been suppressing now breaking out to freedom. She buried her face in his chest and let the tears flow.

"Don't cry, Babe," he breathed, his arms wrapping around her, his voice husky in her ear. "It's okay. Everything is fine now."

Stephanie fought the tears and finally regained some semblance of control. "I'm sorry for crying all over you," she said, smiling up at Carlos, her eyes even brighter blue than he remembered. His heart lurched and he had to tear his eyes away in order to let her go. He wanted to hold her forever.

"Here," he said, handing her the wallet. "Better check and make sure all your money is in there."

Stephanie fingered through the bills. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it is. I'm not sure of the exact amount, but it looks right." She looked back up at Carlos, and there he was, lost in that wild blue again. "Where did you find it?"

He had to blink to regain focus. "The arcade. Right near the target shooting."

"I can't thank you enough, Carlos. You saved my life."

"De nada, Babe. Can we walk you ladies home?"

"That would be nice."

_TBC_


	10. Don't Wait 10

**Don't Wait 10**

The sheer white curtains pirouetted in the cool ocean breeze splashing through the open window in fitful waves, and a shaft of moonlight penetrated a chink to spear across the foot of Stephanie's bed. Tina's deep breathing susurrated in steady rhythm across the room, soothing and hypnotic.

But Stephanie couldn't sleep. She lay in bed, playing the events of the day over and over again in her head. Waking up in this bed for the first time this morning, serving lunch to numerous sunburned families in the restaurant, meeting Lester and Julio, seeing Carlos on the beach…

She broke off from her review of the day to wonder about Carlos's girlfriend, the blonde. She couldn't keep her hands off him down on the beach. She wondered if they were together right now, making love, Carlos hard inside her, or maybe sleeping spooned together front to back.

It gave her a hollow place right in the center of her chest to think of Carlos with the blonde. Stupid, she knew that in her head. But her heart wanted it to be her, his perfect body tight against hers.

Also stupid, she told herself. She didn't even know him, and for all the words she got out of him tonight, she never would. Oh, well, once he started his lifeguard job, she'd probably never see him. He'd be working days on the beach, and she was scheduled for mostly nights in the restaurant.

She marveled at the physical shock of recognition when Carlos took her hand outside the restaurant, as if her body had been waiting in anticipation her whole life for his touch. It roared through her like a firestorm, all flames and rushing wind. Every contact with him was burned into her brain—the electric brush of his arm against hers, the thrill of sitting thigh to thigh in the pizza place, the granite hardness and heat of him against her back in the arcade, the steel bands of his arm around her as she cried all over him.

She was damp just thinking about him, and her loins ached with desire. Chemistry, she told herself. Carlos simply oozed pheromones, and probably every girl he touched felt the exact same way.

Why couldn't she just get her mind off him and sleep? Tomorrow was going to be a tough day, working a full eight hours, and she needed her rest.

The muted whistle of a night bird broke through her thoughts, and the sound, so bittersweet, crept into bed with her, skimming over her skin and covering it with goosebumps. She shivered and clutched the covers tight around her.

There was something strange about the way Carlos took Lester and Julio to look for her wallet. She couldn't pinpoint it, and when he'd brought the wallet back she was so emotional, so filled with relief, that she hadn't questioned him. But it left her with a little hinky feeling, her Spidey sense telling her something was off.

A prickling engulfed her, and a second later the birdcall sounded again. As in a dream, Stephanie rose from the bed and drifted to the window, parting the curtains.

_oOo_

Carlos couldn't sleep. He didn't toss and turn, though. During countless nights spent in gang safe houses he had trained himself not to move at all, awake or asleep. But his mind traveled its tortuous pathways, gyrating through all his concerns but always returning to immerse him in the crystal blue sea of Stephanie's eyes.

Forget her, he told himself. She's not for you, not your type.

He thought about his future. He was already halfway through college, and in spite of various questionable extracurricular activities, his keen mind and unshakable self control were getting him by with good, if not outstanding, grades. He was already ahead in his coursework, and with the overload he planned for the next two years, he'd receive both his bachelor's degree and an MBA at the end of four years.

And then nothing could stop him.

He'd get out of Newark's barrio, move to Manhattan, the power center of the world of finance and big business, and make something of himself. He wanted money, success, prestige, but most of all, power.

He didn't understand the power that Stephanie already held over him. He had to take care not to allow her to derail him from his career track. He should try to stay away from her. But even though he just met her today, he couldn't stop thinking about her.

She was just a woman. He'd had many women, some weeks a different woman every night. He'd found he could have pretty much any woman he wanted. What was it about Stephanie that attracted him so much, drew him to her? It was just chemistry, he told himself, some pheromone she emitted.

He rose from the sofa where he slept in the small rented room and stilled to observe his brother. Julio was in deep sleep, and based on the past week's experience watching over him, Carlos was certain he wouldn't awaken for at least an hour. He left his pillow bunched up under his blanket, giving the impression that he was lying there on the couch, and slipped out the door without a sound.

Moving like a spirit, silent and invisible, Carlos floated the four blocks to Green Street. When he walked Stephanie and her friends home it wasn't at all surprising to find that their apartment was so near his own. It was inevitable.

He took up a position across the street from the big white house, his eyes drawn inexorably to an open second-story window over the porch. The flutter of his flesh promised that Stephanie was there, behind the curtains that sailed ghostlike in the night air.

Transfixed, Carlos gave a low whistle, a nocturnal bird calling its mate. The humming of his blood told him Stephanie was awake, listening. He was without thought now, acting under a compulsion so strong that he couldn't have resisted if his life depended on it. He whistled again and waited, patient, certain.

And two pale hands parted the curtains.

Framed by the window was a white body with a cloud of dark hair. Carlos stepped away from the camouflage of the tree.

_TBC_


	11. Don't Wait 11

**Don't Wait 11**

Stephanie looked out the window, her vision sweeping the street, seeking. A movement caught her eye, and a dark silhouette separated itself from the tree that sheltered it.

In a trance, she turned and walked out the bedroom door, her bare feet silent as she passed Mary Lou sleeping on the pull-out couch. The deadbolt gave a well-oiled, almost inaudible click as she turned it, and she wrapped her hand around the chain to keep it from rattling when she removed it.

Slipping out the apartment door, she pulled it shut behind her without a thought of keys or how she would get back in. Floating down the stairs and out the front door, leaving it ajar, she met him on the sidewalk and his arms around her both relieved and intensified the passion burning in her belly.

"Babe," he whispered. And then his mouth covered hers, and the fire surrounded them.

"Am I dreaming?" Stephanie murmured, dizzy with need, her lips scorched from the heat of his.

"Babe," Carlos answered, his voice rusty. "Walk with me?" he asked, and at her nod he took her hand and they set off down the street, both barefoot and in their night clothes. They were a study in contrasts, Carlos with his dark skin dressed in black boxers and t-shirt, and Stephanie, milky white and wearing a white lace camisole and matching boy shorts.

There was a small park in the next block, just an empty lot with trees, grass, and some rusty playground equipment. Carlos led Stephanie to a bench and they sat, pressed together from knee to hip, his arm around her holding her tight to his side. She put her head on his shoulder and relaxed, her eyes closed.

When Carlos spoke, she felt the rumble of his voice under her cheek. "I misled you tonight, and I need to tell you the truth. I didn't want to wait."

"I had a funny feeling when you brought me my wallet, like there was something off," she answered. "But I thought maybe I was imagining it."

"It's my brother," Carlos began. "He's the one who took your wallet. He's a meth addict."

As he told Stephanie about Julio, the defensive shield Carlos held tight to protect him from the rough Newark world fell away and he opened up to Stephanie as he'd never done to anyone before. He was a man of few words, and he kept it succinct, but he let her into his heart, allowed his feelings to show, his love for his brother and his own guilt.

She stretched her arm across his chest as far around him as she could reach, trying to absorb his hurt, drawing the pain from him the way you lance a boil so it can heal.

"So he's not physically addicted," Carlos concluded, "but the pull of the drug is so strong that he can't be happy without it. I hope after a few weeks he won't be so desperate for that high, but I'll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, I don't dare let him out of my sight."

"You're a good brother," Stephanie said.

"I owe it to him," Carlos said. "I haven't set a good example. It's probably my fault he started."

"What do you mean?" Stephanie pulled her head back to look at his face, but the shadows cast by the nearby streetlight turned his eyes to black holes and painted cruel slashes across his sharp-edged cheeks. She couldn't suppress a tremor of fear, wondering what she was doing out here in the middle of the night with this stranger.

"Are you cold, Babe?" Carlos asked, releasing her and yanking off his t-shirt with one hand at the back of the neck. "Here, put this on."

As he turned toward her the light changed on his face and she saw his eyes, deep brown and expressive, concern and caring foremost. And when he helped her slip the shirt over her head, every sense was filled to overflowing with him. The distinctive scent that mingled soap and male in an irresistible fusion; the softness of the cotton tee caressing her skin; the taste of his kiss still on her lips; the sleepy twittering of birds and the muted rush of waves on the distant shore; the ridges and valleys of his well muscled torso and the indescribable beauty that was his face—the combination sent her system careening out of control, scaring her even more with emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

But despite her physical reaction to him, the faint fear was still with her. "What do you mean, your fault?" she repeated.

"I got in with… the wrong crowd when I was younger, and I've done some pretty… wild things, been in quite a bit of trouble. I'll tell you about my past sometime if you really want to know. But that's all behind me. I'm starting over and doing things right this time."

Judge by his actions, Stephanie told herself, not his words. And his actions so far had shown nothing but honor. So she relaxed back against him, her cheek resting on the smooth, warm skin in the concave dip between his shoulder and his pectoral muscle and her arm draped around his waist. Her mind stopped, and she allowed herself to drift in the sensation of security that was her instinctive impression of Carlos. He felt safe, like he would protect her.

"Don't go to sleep, Babe." Carlos's deep gentle voice brought her out of her trance. "I think it's time to get you home."

They walked hand in hand back to Stephanie's apartment through the cool night air of the coast, both silent, immersed in their own thoughts.

"Oh, shit," Stephanie said when they reached the sidewalk in front of the big white house. "I'm locked out. I forgot my keys."

Carlos raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

She worried her bottom lip with her upper teeth. "I could wake up Mary Lou to let me in, but then there will be a big inquisition about where I was."

Thoughts flashed through Carlos's mind and he made a snap decision. "If you want I could open the door for you. But it would involve a little breaking and entering."

"Oh, could you?" Stephanie's gusty sigh evinced her relief. "I'd really appreciate it. And it's not breaking and entering if I tell you it's okay."

"Meet me at your apartment door," Carlos said.

Stephanie watched as he scaled the corner of the house in complete silence, crossed the porch roof, eased the screen off and disappeared through her open bedroom window. A small fist of fear punched her stomach at the thought that Tina or Mary Lou might wake up as Carlos passed by, and she hurried through the unlatched front door and up the stairs.

He was waiting for her in the dim hall, his bare foot in the apartment door to keep it open. He reached out to cup Stephanie's chin, his faint smile evoking her own evanescent one in response.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You saved me again. That's twice in one day."

"De nada, Babe. Sweet dreams."

"Wait. Let me give you back your shirt." She grabbed the hem to pull it off.

He stopped her with a hand on her wrist. "Keep it, Babe. It will make me happy to think of you wearing it."

He gently brushed his lips over hers, soft and sweet, and then watched the door close behind her.

**TBC in Part 2—Reason to Believe**


	12. Reason to Believe 1

**Part 2—Reason to Believe**

_Oh sweet lungs don't fail me now  
Your burning has turned into fear  
That trails me in my every step,  
I'm moving quick but you're always on my heels...  
My heart is sturdy but it needs you to survive  
—Chris Carrabba_

1

_Two days later, Wednesday_

Stephanie lay flat on her stomach on a blanket on the beach, a big rented umbrella protecting her from the midday sun. She was covered from top to toe with sunscreen, but she would still burn if she wasn't careful, so she paid the eight bucks to have the umbrella for the day. Besides, the rental fee included a cute guy in board shorts to carry it to the location of your choice and plant it for you. And you just left it there on the beach when you were finished for the day.

Not having to wrestle with anything heavy was a big bonus. She was exhausted and ached all over. Her first full eight-hour shift yesterday had really kicked her ass. Her arms and shoulders hurt from hoisting up big heavy trays of food, her feet felt like they'd been stomped on by elephants, and her back was killing her. But she'd earned a whole hundred dollars in tips, a fortune to her. If she made a hundred dollars a day times six days a week, times, how many weeks? Too much math for the condition she was in, but it could be a lot of money.

Stephanie rolled over and sat up with a groan. She should have taken some ibuprofen. She wrestled her beach chair into the shade of the umbrella and crawled into it, digging in her beach bag for the light summer romance she'd brought to read. But she couldn't concentrate. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes.

She awoke suddenly, a flush of heat spreading over her, and her eyes popped open just in time to see Carlos jog past at the edge of the water. He was shirtless, wearing only black swim trunks and sneakers, and the sight of all that male magnificence sent her pulse spiraling up to supersonic levels. A sheen of sweat covered his smooth café-au-lait skin, and even from this distance she could see droplets running down the valleys of his abs. She leaned forward in her chair to take in that amazing ass and watched until it was out of sight.

And she wasn't the only one. Every female head on the beach followed hers, and she heard the red-haired woman on a blanket to her right say, "Wow, I'll take one of those, to go. And to come…"

Stephanie was pretty sure Carlos hadn't seen her there in the shade of the umbrella, hidden among other umbrellas and sunbathers, but just in case, she was glad she was wearing her best bikini, bright blue with big silver rings at the cleavage and each hip.

She hadn't seen Carlos yesterday at all, what with working all afternoon and evening. Mary Lou had yesterday off, but Lester worked five to nine with Tina and Steph last night. He'd done a fair bit of chatting while working, and he was impertinent and suggestive. His lecherous comments made Stephanie feel uncomfortable, and she kept busy and avoided talking to him as much as possible.

But Lester insisted on walking Tina and her home at nine when they all went off shift, hooking an arm around each of their necks when they left the restaurant. Stephanie shrugged away from him as soon as she could without appearing rude, but Tina laughed at his lewd comments and zinged right back at him, her arm around his waist. And in the process she asked him what Carlos and Julio were doing, finding out that Carlos had passed his lifeguard test that morning, had a CPR recertification class on Thursday, and would begin work on Friday.

Stephanie wondered where on the long beach he'd be stationed.

_oOo_

Carlos walked down onto the sand at Fourth Street and decided to run south, away from the more congested section of the beach. Lester and Julio had walked over with him, but they took their blanket in the opposite direction, looking for a good spot to relax. Lester promised to watch Julio for the afternoon and make sure he was ready to go to the restaurant for his five-o'clock shift. At that point Carlos would take over, hanging in the parking lot or on the street out front to make sure Julio didn't get away. Carlos wondered if Stephanie would be there.

He felt loose and limber in the heat of the midday sun, and he pushed himself from an easy jog up to a punishing pace after a few blocks. As expected, he'd skated through the lifeguard certification with ease. He was pleased to find out that as an employee of the Borough of Point Pleasant Beach he had access to the high school gym, which he checked out right after the test. Some of the enterprises he was involved in back in Newark required him to be in tiptop physical condition, and the weight room at the high school looked to be more than adequate.

Carlos ran hard two miles down the beach and then turned back north again, pushing his pace even more until his legs ached and his lungs burned. He couldn't get his mind off Stephanie. He'd lain awake last night for hours fighting the urge to go over to her place, to climb onto the porch roof, into her bedroom. He only wanted to watch her sleep for a few minutes, see her again in that revealing white lace top and those tiny panties.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, find his zone. Breathe, concentrate on breathing, he thought. But she was pounding through his veins with every stride. Even planning his week, thinking about work schedules and how to control Julio couldn't push Stephanie out of his head.

When he reached his starting point at Fourth Street Carlos slowed to a jog. He'd go another mile to cool down and then walk the mile back.

As he approached Third Street, his heart gave a heave, and a quiver padded across his chest like cats' paws, making his nipples harden and his breath catch. Stephanie was there on the beach. He could feel her. He tried not to look, but his eyes glanced sideways to one of the large blue-and-white rental umbrellas and the blue-bikinied figure beneath it.

It looked like she was asleep, and Carlos forced his eyes straight ahead and kept going. He couldn't stop now, in the middle of his cool-down. But when he walked back, maybe he'd stop and talk to her.

_TBC_


	13. Reason to Believe 2

**Reason to Believe 2**

After Carlos disappeared up the beach, Stephanie rose, stretching to try to relieve the ache in her muscles. It was getting hot, and she was sweating. Glowing, she thought with a little smile, thinking of Mary Lou and Lisa, hard at work at the restaurant right now.

It was early in the season, and the water was still on the cold side, but she thought she'd just go in a little ways and splash a bit to cool off. There were several families with children braving the chilly water, and they seemed to be surviving.

She walked into the water to her knees. The rolling waves washed up her thighs, and after a couple minutes she got used to the temperature and it felt pretty good.

Stephanie stood gazing out to sea, thinking about Carlos. She'd thought about little else since meeting him two days ago. He was constantly in the back of her mind, even when she was working or hanging out with Mary Lou and Tina. She sighed in exasperation. She just didn't understand why she couldn't get him out of her head. Sure, he was hot. As a matter of fact, hot didn't even begin to describe him. But she'd met other hot guys, and they didn't affect her like this.

As she pondered her attraction to Carlos, she moved a little deeper into the water, using her cupped hands to splash water up on her chest and shoulders. As each wave came toward her she gave a little hop to keep her breasts from being submerged. Her feet sank into the soft sand as the waves shifted it, and she had to keep taking small steps to stay upright.

As she brought her wet hands up to her throat to cool it, a sudden chill breezed through her, raising the hair on the back of her neck. She spun around, her eyes searching the beach, and there he was, walking along the edge of the water, his eyes on her.

With her first involuntary step toward shore, a huge wave broke over her head, knocking her over and rolling her under the water.

_oOo_

Carlos reached the far end of the boardwalk and slowed to a walk. Good run, he thought. He'd pushed himself harder than normal, trying to outrace the obsession with Stephanie, the fear that he wouldn't be able to resist her, and the possibility that she might be able to resist him.

He bent over to untie his running shoes and toed them off, picking them up in one hand and walking along the edge of the water, allowing the rising tide to splash over his feet. He needed a dip to cool off and wash away the sweat of his exercise. Maybe Stephanie would want to go in the water with him. He wondered if she was one of those girls who wouldn't go in the water because she didn't want to smudge her perfect makeup or mess up her hair. That over-concern with appearance was an annoying trait. If he could find some flaws in Stephanie maybe he could begin to step away and forget about her.

As Carlos approached Third Street, his eyes gravitated to the water and found the alabaster skin, the blue bikini, the brown curls swept high onto the top of her head. Stephanie was standing in water almost to her waist, her back to him. She dipped handfuls of water and splashed them on her chest and upper arms. He couldn't tear his eyes away, imagining the water she was splashing on her chest dripping down between her breasts and those gorgeous legs revealed an inch at a time as she walked up onto the beach.

She stiffened and spun around, her eyes locking on him straight away. And then an extra-large wave washed over her shoulders, hitting the back of her head and knocking her down, engulfing her.

Carlos dropped his shoes and raced into the water toward the spot where she'd disappeared.

_oOo_

The cold water was a shock as she went under, and Stephanie tumbled in the surf, struggling to find the bottom and get her feet under her. Just as she managed to get her head above water and gasp in half a lungful of air, another wave hit and slammed her under again.

All of a sudden two large hands were at her waist, lifting her out of the water and bringing her to a sculpted brown chest. Stephanie clung to Carlos like a limpet, her arms around his neck and her legs wrapping his waist, coughing to clear her throat of the salty ocean water.

Carlos slipped one hand under her ass to support her and encircled her waist with the other, cuddling her close, murmuring, "It's okay, Babe. I've got you."

Stephanie held tight, resting her cheek on his and allowing him to carry her out of the water and to her umbrella. She felt safe, as if being in his arms was protection against the terrors of the deep and all manner of frightening things.

And she felt more than that. He was hard between her legs and she arched herself against him, heat washing over her in spite of the cold water still dripping from her. Other than her single experience on the floor of the bakery, Stephanie had never been with a guy that way, and even Dickie didn't give her this sudden flood of desire, this craving, this very physical ache to have him inside her.

Carlos groaned as he set her on her feet, sliding her down the front of his body and holding her waist to keep her belly against his stiffness. "God, Babe," he wrenched out.

Stephanie couldn't speak, but she slid her arms down over his chest and snaked them around his waist, resting her cheek in that sweet spot just above his pecs, sagging against him. It was such a perfect fit that she felt like they were created expressly to join together in this way.

After a minute, an hour, Stephanie wasn't sure which, Carlos stirred and slid his hands up her arms, pressing her shoulders back so he could see her face, look into those vivid blue eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Stephanie reached up and took his face in both hands, looking into the depths of his dark, emotion-filled eyes. "Thank you, Carlos," she said. "Every time I see you, you have to rescue me. You must be my knight in shining armor, always saving me from the forces of darkness."

His expression was serious as he responded, "I'm afraid you'll find I'm one of the forces of darkness, Babe."

"Well, then you're my dark knight." She gave him a brilliant smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Babe."

"Batman."

They stood, eyes locked together, Carlos's hands at her waist again and hers on his shoulders. Just when Stephanie thought he was going to kiss her a feminine voice spoke behind him.

"Sorry to interrupt this touching moment, but Carlos, I need you."

He released Stephanie and took a step away, turning. It was his girlfriend, the busty blonde Stephanie saw with him on Monday. She was wearing an orange bikini today, and it set off her flawless golden tan and streaky blonde hair to perfection. Tanning salon and hair colorist, thought Stephanie, her Burg-trained eyes assessing the competition. And the big, perfect boobs had to be fake, she thought, a touch of malice combined with envy.

The blonde curved her hands around Carlos's neck and pulled his head down to give him a kiss that landed on the corner of his mouth. Placing her cheek against his, she murmured something in his ear, too low for Stephanie to hear.

Carlos turned back to Stephanie, his face devoid of expression, his eyes blank. "Sorry, Babe, I've got to go. I'll see you later." The blonde took his arm and they walked away together, stopping to pick up Carlos's shoes at the edge of the water and continuing north on the beach.

"Nice try, honey," said the red-haired woman on the blanket to the right of Stephanie, "but it looks like this round goes to the bimbo."

Stephanie gave her a weak smile before retiring to the sanctuary of her umbrella, her face flaming.

_TBC_


	14. Reason to Believe 3

**Reason to Believe 3**

"Mike asked me to get you a locker and show you the ropes before Friday," Ashley purred into Carlos's ear, "and I'm scheduled to work tomorrow. How about right now?"

Damn, Carlos thought. But then, just as well. Stephanie felt too damn good in his arms. He shouldn't indulge himself that way. One thing was certain—no good would come of allowing himself to get involved with her. It was weak, and he was determined to overcome every weakness, leaving nothing to be exploited by those who might want to take advantage of him.

As Carlos and Ashley walked to the water to pick up his shoes, he let her hold his arm on one side and positioned a strategic hand on his other hip to screen his bulging swim trunks from view. Cold water, he thought. The water was cold. Think about winter, snow, ice, cold showers. Think about dead bodies, crawling with maggots. Think about anything except curly brown hair, dancing blue eyes, milk-white skin.

When he picked up his sneakers he managed to extricate himself from Ashley's possessive grip on his arm by shifting the shoes to the hand between them. He also used the opportunity to adjust the front of his swim trunks, get himself back together. By the time they walked across the boardwalk on Front Street toward the city building that housed the Recreation Department and employees' locker room, Carlos was relaxed, in a zone, thinking about the CPR training tomorrow and his first day of work on the beach Friday.

"Right over here," Ashley said, leading him into the lifeguards' area and opening an empty locker along the back wall. "This will be your locker."

She spun the dial on the combination padlock on the locker next to his. "Let me just get you a lock."

She reached into the locker. "The combination is on the back," she said, pulling out her closed fist, holding it out until he opened his hand. But it was more than a lock, he saw as she dropped it onto his open palm. Underneath the lock, with edges rough against his fingers, was a foil packet.

Carlos pulled the packet out from under the lock. A condom. A mistake, he wondered, or an invitation?

"Here," he said, holding the condom out to her. "I won't be needing this."

"Oops," Ashley said, feigning innocence as she took the condom and tossed it back into her locker. "Sorry."

Yeah, right, Carlos thought as he closed his locker and hooked the open lock through the hasp. The only thing she was sorry about was that he wasn't rolling the condom on now and doing her right here on the floor in the deserted locker room.

Ashley slammed her locker shut and faced him, stepping closer, backing him up against the bank of lockers. "When I saw that boner you had on the beach I thought you might need a little relief." Before he even had time to react, her hand was in the front of his trunks, enclosing him in a firm grip.

It was so unexpected that it took Carlos a moment to react. He was used to being hit on, but had never encountered this level of aggression in a woman before. "No," he said, grabbing her wrist and trying to pull her hand away. "Stop."

"Sure thing, handsome," Ashley said, releasing him. With another unpredictable move she dropped to her knees in front of him and in a single action yanked down the front of his shorts and sucked him in.

Carlos gasped. Her mouth closing over him brought to mind the memory of full, ripe lips and the tip of a pink tongue peeping out to moisten them. Stephanie, he thought, and was instantly, hugely erect, his breath straining, lungs screaming for oxygen.

He leaned his head back against the lockers. What could it hurt? He needed relief and Ashley was already halfway there.

But no. It was a weakness. And as much as getting involved with Stephanie would be a mistake, getting involved with Ashley in this way would be an even bigger one.

With superhuman effort Carlos grabbed the sides of Ashley's hair with both hands and held tight, twisting away from her mouth, springing free with a juicy "pop!"

"I said no," he rasped out between clenched teeth, releasing her hair and pulling his trunks back up to cover himself. "No means no."

Carlos turned and walked out the door, leaving Ashley sitting back on her heels on the floor staring at him. After pulling his running shoes on, he took off down Front Street, racing full out as if all the demons of hell were behind him.

_oOo_

Stupid, stupid, thought Stephanie, squirming around in her chair, trying to get comfortable. Why would Carlos even look at you when he has a gorgeous girlfriend like that? Even if she is a bimbo with fake boobs.

The salt water drying on her skin itched, and her wet hair dripped down the sides of her face. Stephanie toweled her hair and applied more sunscreen, but her insides were churning. After ten minutes of trying to relax and enjoy her day off she gave up and began stuffing her belongings into her beach bag. She'd just go back to the house and shower, maybe take a nap.

She picked up her chair and bag, slipped on her flip-flops and set off for the apartment. She wouldn't think about Carlos anymore, she told herself, even though she'd been thinking of almost nothing else since Monday night. The memory of his lips over hers, the passion of the first kiss and the tenderness of the second, wouldn't leave her alone. She couldn't help but wonder about his relationship with his girlfriend, if it was so easy for him to kiss a complete stranger.

But he didn't feel like a stranger.

And she'd been just as quick to return his kiss, she reminded herself, in spite of the fact that she kind of had a boyfriend. When she kissed Dickie goodbye on Saturday night, it seemed like an eternity until she'd see him again on Friday. And now it was just two days away and he'd barely crossed her mind since Monday. Since she met Carlos.

She probably should call Dickie tonight and tell him to come to the restaurant when he got to Point Pleasant Friday evening. He'd called her Monday when she was in the parking lot of the restaurant, but last night she had to work and he didn't call. He was probably in bed by ten. He was really serious about the Princeton internship he had for the summer and planned on working hard and building some relationships with the law professors before he started courses in the fall.

She still felt a little funny calling Dickie. Even though they'd been dating for a couple of months, they only saw each other once or twice a week, and he'd always taken the initiative. Stephanie hadn't dated anyone else since they started going out, and she was pretty sure Dickie hadn't either, although they hadn't talked about exclusivity. It was fun having a guy to take her to the movies or out for pizza, and she'd learned a lot about him, about his hopes and dreams for the future. At twenty-two he already knew exactly what he wanted to do, to be, and she felt like a lightweight compared to him.

Stephanie arrived at Green Street and stowed her chair under the back porch before going up to grab a shower. As she washed the salt out of her hair and ran a soapy cloth over her breasts and belly, Carlos crept back into her mind. Thinking about him, his gorgeous face, his bottomless eyes, his firm lips, his perfect body, how hard he'd been pressing against her center, she slid down the shower wall and slipped her fingers between her legs.

_TBC_


	15. Reason to Believe 4

**Reason to Believe 4**

_Two days later, Friday_

After working all day, Carlos barely had time to shower and change before it was time to walk Julio and Lester to the restaurant for their first joint shift. His mind was on Stephanie, hoping he'd get a chance to talk with her on her break or after her shift was over. At least they could walk the girls home, and maybe even convince them to go up to the amusement park on the boardwalk.

He'd dressed with care, foregoing his usual baggy shorts and tees in favor of Dockers and a polo shirt, trying to get away from the gang-banger look. Still all black, though. It was an image he'd chosen for the tough Newark neighborhoods he frequented, and he owned nothing but black, with the minor exception of a couple of pairs of board shorts. And even those were dark colors.

Once he got away from Ashley on Wednesday afternoon, Carlos ran another five miles, pushing on and on in the heat until his capillaries screamed for oxygen. He was furious with himself for allowing her to take him by surprise, and for not anticipating better. It was a bitter reminder that a woman could be just as dangerous as a man, something he needed to assimilate into his attitude. It was lucky she just wanted his dick, not his life, or he'd be a dead man.

After running so hard that he ended up stopping and puking in the gutter, he went back to his room to brush his teeth and take a quick shower. He trotted to the beach, spotting Stephanie's umbrella right away as he dropped down onto the sand at Third Street. He paused, waiting for the buzz, but felt nothing and knew even before he reached the spot that she was gone. Hoping she'd come back, he spread his towel in the shade of the umbrella and lay down on his stomach, thinking about her and finally dropping off to sleep.

He hadn't seen Stephanie again since Wednesday. But he was hopeful for tonight.

Before they were even halfway down the last block before the restaurant, Carlos could feel her, and as they rounded the fence by the parking lot he wasn't a bit surprised to see her sitting on the bench by the side door. She was staring at the sidewalk as he came into view and an enigmatic little smile skimmed over her lips.

"Remember, I'll be out here watching," Carlos muttered to Julio, his tone in contrast with the almost-smile on his face as he stared at Stephanie. As Lester and Julio disappeared into the restaurant, Carlos dropped onto the bench beside her.

_oOo_

Stephanie sprinkled salt on a paper twist of fries and drew herself a large Coke in a to-go cup. She had an hour for her "lunch" break, even though it was really closer to dinnertime, and she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She didn't feel like walking the three blocks to the apartment and then back again on her aching feet. So she took her fries and soda and settled outside on the bench by the door, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon sun.

She finished the fries and toed off her sneakers. Removing the socks from her poor sore feet, she stretched out her long legs and flexed her arches, wiggling bare toes in the breeze. Who knew waitressing was so physically demanding? It was harder than any workout. She flexed her bicep and poked at it with a finger. Yup, already building up muscles. After a few minutes she leaned her head back against the side of the building, closing her eyes and just vegging out.

She might have been asleep, or almost so, but her eyes flew open when the sensation hit her. A wave started at her toes, rippling up her legs, through her body, and all the way to the top of her head before running back down and settling in her lower belly. She stared at the sidewalk, waiting, anticipating, knowing, certain.

When Carlos appeared at the corner of the fence, Stephanie couldn't help but smile. She knew it. She felt him coming.

"Babe," Carlos said as he sat down beside her, the side of his leg just inches away from her thigh. "Break time?"

"Hey, Batman," Stephanie replied with a grin. "Yeah, my lunch hour. What are you doing here?"

"Keeping an eye on Julio."

Stephanie's smile faded, and her brow crinkled in concern. "How's he doing?"

"Still craving the drug."

"Are you going to stay out here his whole shift?"

"No choice if I'm going to keep him clean."

Stephanie thought about that for a minute. Poor Carlos. It was like having to work two jobs, his own and then staying on guard for Julio's shifts.

"Did you start work?" she asked him.

"Yeah, first day."

"How'd it go?"

It had been a pain in the ass, masses of silly girls clustered around his stand, giggling and trying to talk to him while he was on duty. He'd practiced his sociopath expression, looking right through them without speaking, and managed to scare them all away.

All but Ashley. She was stationed at the next chair down the beach from him, something he figured she'd arranged, since she seemed to be second in command and quite tight with Mike, the Beach Safety Director. She showed up for Carlos's first half-hour break. Somehow she'd managed it so their breaks coincided, and she walked down with his relief and brought Carlos a bottle of water. He got rid of her by walking up on the boardwalk to the men's room and shutting the door in her face.

But she was there for every break, taking his arm and pressing her breast against it, rubbing her hand across his chest, her fingers brushing his nipples. He wondered how much trouble she could cause for him if he told her to take her hands off him and get lost.

"Okay," he answered Stephanie's question.

Stephanie leaned back and wiggled her toes again, sighing and glancing at her watch. Twenty more minutes and she'd have to go back into the fray of the dinner hour. More like dinner hours, she thought. She'd be running her ass off until the restaurant closed at ten. Even this early in the season Crabster's packed them in with the Friday special, all-you-can-eat fried fish. And boy, could some of those folks eat. She'd seen it already and it wasn't going to get any better.

"Feet hurt, Babe?" Carlo asked, his eyes taking in her incredible legs as she rotated her ankles and stretched her arches.

"Just a bit," Stephanie answered. No whining, she told herself. You signed on for this job, and the tips were great so far. Most of the customers were really nice. It was easy to be friendly, to chat and smile and hustle to keep them happy, and it was paying off, big.

Carlos reached down and grabbed the leg nearest him, swinging Stephanie around so her knee lay across his lap. His big, warm hands slid down her smooth, white calf and closed around her foot, massaging, thumbs on top and fingers firm across the bottom.

"Omigod," Stephanie moaned. "That's amazing."

She stretched out on her back on the bench, bringing her other leg up onto Carlos's lap as well. Warmth spread through her from the touch of his hands on her feet, the feeling of his thigh muscles hard under her legs, and she relaxed, letting her mind drift.

_TBC_


	16. Reason to Believe 5

**Reason to Believe 5**

"What time do you need to go back inside, Babe?" The deep, gentle voice brought her out of a daydream of sailing away under the warm sun with Carlos rubbing baby oil all over her. He still held her feet, one in each warm hand.

Stephanie's eyes blinked open and she glanced at her watch. "Five more minutes." She sat up and swung her feet off his lap. "You've got magic hands, Batman."

As she finished tying her shoes, Carlos rose and reached down to pull her up into his arms. His hands were solid on her back, massaging the knots out, and the heat of his body was brighter than the sun.

"You're tight, Babe," he murmured, resting his cheek on the side of her head above her ear.

"Lifting trays is as good as weight training," Stephanie answered, limp against him, allowing his strength to hold her upright. "But I smell like fried fish."

"Good enough to eat," he responded, planting a kiss on her curls before releasing her.

"See you later, Batman," she breathed as she scooted into the restaurant, flushed with his heat and the innuendo behind his words.

_oOo_

Carlos lurked in the parking lot, standing silent and motionless for long stretches, his eyes revolving, watching not only the doors of the restaurant but everyone that passed. One of the things he learned as a young apprentice in the Bloods was to remain aware of his surroundings. Even if you weren't expecting trouble, it was best to always be prepared.

Every once in a while he caught sight of Stephanie's curly brown ponytail through the large windows of the restaurant, seeing her clearer as the light began to fade. With each glimpse, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

At about seven-thirty in rolled a beat-up old red pickup truck with a cartoon-like logo on the door showing a smiling workman holding up a big wrench. A tall, beefy guy with short, sandy hair sprang out and trotted toward the restaurant. As he passed the front window, the door burst open and Mary Lou came flying out, leaping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist.

The guy turned and pressed her into the wall at the corner of the building, his mouth on hers long and deep. The fiancé, thought Carlos, here for the weekend.

"Hey, you two, get a room," called Tina, poking her head out the door, and the couple separated, grabbing a few more quick kisses before going inside.

It made Carlos wonder if Stephanie's boyfriend was coming down, too. That would definitely put a crimp in his plans for seeing her later.

_oOo_

"Hi, Lenny," Stephanie greeted him, and Lenny gave her a grin and a wave as Mary Lou led him to a stool at the short counter in the back of the restaurant. There was a party of four standing at the entrance waiting to be seated, and every table was full.

Stephanie rushed around, taking orders and delivering plates of fried fish, fried shrimp, fried soft-shell crabs, and even the occasional broiled seafood platter.

"There she is, our little chicken of the sea," Lester joked as Stephanie emerged from the kitchen with the umpteenth tray of fried fish specials balanced on her shoulder.

"That's intergalactic princess of the sea," Stephanie shot back, grinning. "You may address me as 'your highness,' lowly one."

"Yes, ma'am, your highness." Lester bowed deep before grabbing a wet rag to wipe off the table he'd just cleared.

Stephanie was beginning to really like Lester. Every time she passed him he had some smart-alecky comment, and more often than not she zinged right back at him. It was the third night this week they'd worked together, and she'd learned that kidding around with him tended to minimize his more suggestive comments.

It was the first night she'd been on with Julio, and he was the converse of Lester, silent and miserable, plodding along clearing tables and resetting them. A few minutes before her last break was due, Stephanie noticed him at the front door, holding it open as a party of eight was walking out. Just as he began to swing through on their heels, slouching down to blend into the crowd, she grabbed his wrist.

"Hey, Julio, the double over there needs clearing and breaking down." Stephanie held onto him and gestured.

His eyes, so much like Carlos's, held hers for a moment before he heaved a sigh and nodded. "Okay, Steph."

"Aren't you due for a break?" Stephanie asked.

"Yeah."

"Me, too. You want a Coke or something to eat? I'll grab it for you."

"Just a Coke," Julio answered, picking up his dish pan and turning toward the vacated table.

"Julio," Stephanie added, waiting until he looked back at her. "What does Carlos like? I want to take something out for him, too."

"Water."

"Okay. See you outside."

After telling Tina she was going on break and letting her know which tables to cover, Stephanie filled her cup with Coke, ran another one for Julio and snagged a bottle of spring water from the cooler. Sticking the water under her arm, she grabbed a Coke in each hand and slipped out through the side door.

By the time she set the Cokes on the bench and had the water bottle in her hand Carlos was there.

"Here," she said, handing the water to him and sitting down. "Thought you might want something to drink."

"Thanks, Babe." He twisted the cap off and tipped the bottle to his lips, taking a long draught. Then he looked at the Coke in her hand and the second one on the bench beside her. "Thirsty?" he questioned.

"One's for Julio. He should be out in a minute."

Carlos sat down and leaned back against the building, laying his thigh against Stephanie's, wondering what it was about her that drew him. Stephanie leaned back, too, her shoulder settling against his strong bicep and her head dropping onto his shoulder as if it belonged there. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about the man beside her. But there was that hum between them, and the heat of him, and her breathing quickened.

The door beside them clicked open, making Stephanie jump and jerk away from Carlos.

"How's it going, bro?" Carlos asked as Julio picked up his Coke and slumped down beside Stephanie.

"Okay," Julio answered without expression.

Two of a kind, Stephanie thought, strong, silent types with beautiful faces, warm brown skin, and emotions under stringent control. But there were differences, too, in physique and in attitude. And Julio didn't have the same impact of presence as Carlos. He didn't affect her at all, while even from a distance she could feel Carlos's power, his magnetism.

Carlos shifted toward her, his thigh back against hers, and she took that as a signal to put her head back down on his shoulder. And they sat in silence until her break was over.

When Stephanie sat up and shifted her weight, preparing to rise, Julio stood and slipped back in through the door without a word, leaving her alone with Carlos.

He asked, "What are you doing after work?"

"Oh," Stephanie said, looking at her watch again. Eight thirty. Dickie should be arriving any minute. As a matter of fact, she was kind of surprised he wasn't there yet. Lenny had been there for hours, just sitting and watching Mary Lou work, eating whatever extra food she managed to snatch from the kitchen, a broken piece of fish here, some fries there, a cup of soup, a slice of pie.

"I've got a date," Stephanie said, almost wishing she didn't if it meant she could hang out with Carlos.

Carlos just gave an almost imperceptible nod and brushed a quick hand down her arm as she rose. "See you later, Babe," he said.

"See you, Batman."

_TBC_


	17. Reason to Believe 6

**Reason to Believe 6**

Carlos was back at the far side of the parking lot, invisible in the dark ell of the fence, watching the doors of the restaurant and trying to keep his mind blank, trying not to think about Stephanie. He'd known her less than a week, but it was already clear there was a connection between them, something destined. Being with her, touching her, even just sitting next to her, was a kind of comfort he'd never known before.

He wanted her, there was no doubt about that, but the physical desire wasn't the most important thing. The unfamiliar emotions baffled him, filled his chest with the shifting sands of uncertainty.

He viewed the scene being played out in the picture windows of the restaurant. It was like watching a TV show, and he was mesmerized each time the curly ponytail appeared on the screen. Approaching Crabster's ten-o'clock closing time, the restaurant wasn't as full as earlier, although there were still plenty of tables occupied.

The rumble of a powerful engine caught his attention, rising and falling with the driver's down-shifting as the vehicle nearing the beach. With a crunch of stones under wide wheels, a classic Jaguar E-type convertible spun into the lot, old and well cared for. Carlos took in short, neat dark blonde hair as the car drove to the back of the lot and angled across two parking spaces.

Asshole, thought Carlos. He hated people who valued their cars so much that they had to take up more than their fair share of the parking lot. He suspected who the driver was, and when the guy walked past him to get to the front door his visual confirmed that it was the one whose picture Stephanie carried in her wallet. Dickie. The dickhead. The dickless wonder.

Carlos drifted toward the building to watch through the window as Dickie paused just inside the front door and Stephanie walked over to greet him. She didn't hug him or kiss him or even touch him, just gestured him to a table by the window and brought him a menu.

_oOo_

Dickie didn't arrive until twenty to ten.

Stephanie hadn't even been thinking about him. Her left arm still tingled from Carlos's touch, and between carrying trays and handing out dinners she kept rubbing it with her other hand. The gesture, that simple caress, moved something inside her, filled her with affection for Carlos.

You don't really know him, she told herself. It's stupid to be thinking about him all the time. But her heart knew his heart.

When Dickie finally walked through the door, it took Stephanie a moment to realize he was there.

"This one's mine, Tommy," she said as Tommy Rosolli started for the door to seat Dickie. "Hey, Dickie. How are you doing? Are you hungry? Do you want dinner?"

"Hey, Sugarplum," Dickie responded. "Yeah, I haven't eaten yet, and I'm starved."

Stephanie showed him to a booth in her section and handed him the menu. Leaning down, she told him in a low voice, "I can get you soda, salad, soup, fries and dessert for free, or you can order something."

Dickie settled back on the bench and opened the menu. "It's been a rough week. I'll take a Heineken to begin with."

Stephanie got the beer and a glass, plus a couple of refills of soda for the next table, smiling at the customers and asking if everything was okay. After being assured that everything was great, she turned back to Dickie.

"Did you decide what you want?" she asked him, holding her pen poised over her order pad.

"How's the broiled Maine lobster tail?" he asked. "And how big is it?"

"I haven't had it myself, but I heard a couple of customers say it was good. It's two tails, not huge, kind of medium sized."

"Okay, I'll try it."

Stephanie hoped that when she told Dickie what she could give him for free, he understood that if he ordered off the menu he'd have to pay. Because at 29.95 the Maine lobster tail was the most expensive thing on the menu. And the beers were 5.50 a bottle, not exactly happy hour prices.

She brought him his salad and a glass of water with it, since he'd drained the first beer in less than the time it took to dish up the salad.

"I need another Heineken," he said as she put the water in front of him.

"Sure thing," she promised.

When she delivered his entrée, he asked for a third.

"Wouldn't you rather have a soda?" she asked, knowing he had his car and worrying about him driving.

"I said, another Heineken." His voice was firm.

And then he demanded a fourth beer with his dessert.

It was after ten-thirty and the restaurant was almost empty by the time Stephanie brought Dickie's check out. She set it on the table and slid into the booth opposite him for a minute, flexing her feet under the table. "Those are my last customers," she said, tilting her head toward the booth in the back. "As soon as they pay their check I'll be able to leave."

"Good," Dickie said, picking up the bill, looking at the amount and laying it back down, sliding it across the table to Stephanie. "Can't you take care of this for me, Sugarplum?"

Stephanie stared at him, her eyes wide, and his bland pale-eyed expression met her gaze. Oh, crap, she thought. Even though she didn't charge him for his dessert, what with the lobster and four beers, plus tax, his tab was over sixty dollars. She knew she had almost twice that in tips, but she needed her tip money for her living expenses and to save for school in the fall.

But then she thought of her mother. Be generous, and always make sure to pay your fair share, her mom taught her. You never want to let people think you don't have enough money, or God forbid, that you're cheap.

"Sure, Dickie," she answered, trying to remain upbeat.

Stephanie picked up the check and went into the kitchen, pulling her roll of tips from her pocket.

_oOo_

Carlos was tired. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone. But he'd sat in the lifeguard chair in the hot sun all day long and then spent almost six hours in the restaurant parking lot. And he hadn't eaten since having a piece of pizza on the boardwalk nine hours ago.

But at least he'd managed to spend some time with Stephanie. Even though they sat in silence most of their time together, it was a comfortable silence. They were both tired, and Carlos took comfort from the fact that Stephanie could be herself and relax with him, lean on him.

He stiffened in surprise as Stephanie came walking out the front door of the restaurant with the dickhead. She was carrying her bag, so she must be finished for the night. Without even thinking about it, he glided silent and invisible across the parking lot toward them.

When they reached the back corner of the building, Dickie grabbed Stephanie and pushed her against the wall, pressing himself against her. Her discomfort was clear to Carlos in the tense shoulders, the rigid back.

"Hey, Sugarplum, don't I even get a hello kiss?" Dickie asked, and Stephanie turned her face up to his.

After a second, Dickie broke off the kiss. "Pee-yew, you stink. Like dead fish and rancid grease. Let's go back to your apartment so you can shower."

Carlos stood in the shelter of a van a couple cars away from them, his fists clenched and his jaw tight. That dick-brained asshole, he thought, I ought to put him in the hospital for speaking to Stephanie that way.

As Dickie walked toward his car, holding Stephanie's wrist and pulling her along she turned her head, her eyes going straight to Carlos, who'd started after them. She gave a minute shake of her head, holding his eyes for several seconds until he inclined his head in acquiescence.

Dickie helped her into the Jaguar and they drove away, leaving Carlos standing there.

_TBC_


	18. Reason to Believe 7

**Reason to Believe 7**

_The next day, Saturday_

Stephanie sauntered up onto the boardwalk, the breeze blowing curly tendrils loose from her ponytail. She was on her lunch break, early today, so she came up to the boards to get some fresh air. It was cloudy, but the beach was still well populated.

She knew Dickie was out there on the beach somewhere, but she wasn't going out of her way to find him. He was hung over and cranky, and she'd been glad to have to go to work. She'd had a late brunch with him this morning, relieved when he paid for it. And he wanted to go out again tonight.

Last night after she showered off the stink of the restaurant, he wanted to go to Mac's, the hot spot for drinking and dancing. Stephanie didn't really want to stay out late because of having to work long shifts Saturday and Sunday, and she didn't bother breaking out her fake ID, sticking to Cokes. Dickie downed several beers. On top of what he'd had at the restaurant, it was quite a load, and he wanted to dance. Figuring if he was on the dance floor he wasn't drinking, Stephanie danced with him for a couple of hours.

A strange thing. The blonde lifeguard, Carlos's girlfriend, was there. As soon as Stephanie saw her she began scanning the crowd, looking for Carlos. But there was no sign of him. The bimbo was dancing and rubbing up against a guy that was hanging with her and her friend. Stephanie couldn't imagine being that intimate with another guy if she had a boyfriend. Especially not one as hot as Carlos.

Finally she said, "Dickie, it's nearly two and I have to work tomorrow. Are you ready to go?"

"Oh," he said, clueless and not a little drunk. "Okay. I'll take you home."

Lucky for them Mac's was walking distance from Stephanie's apartment, because there was no way she was getting in a car with Dickie. His heavy arm across her shoulder weighed Stephanie down as they walked the dozen blocks back to Green Street.

"Good night, and thanks for the nice evening," she said, always polite, even though she hadn't really enjoyed Mac's.

"Come here, Sugarplum," he said and yanked her into a sloppy, beer-scented kiss. His hands ran up and down her back and he thrust his pelvis against hers.

After a few seconds she pulled away. "See you in the morning," she said and made her escape. She tiptoed past the double-sized lump on the pull-out that was Mary Lou and Lenny straight into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

In her bedroom, as she'd done last night she went right to the open window, holding back the curtains and letting the cool ocean breeze soothe her exhausted body. She waited there a minute, watching for movement. No motion, no tingly feeling. Carlos wasn't out there.

Stupid to be disappointed night after night, she told herself. He just came the one time because he wanted her to understand about Julio. It wasn't like there was anything between them. And he saw her with Dickie. He had a girlfriend, she had a boyfriend. They weren't meant to be together, no matter what she might feel for him.

Stephanie stood on the boardwalk staring out at the ocean but not really seeing it. She wasn't happy with Dickie's drinking last night. She wished he'd go home early, but she knew she'd have to see him again tonight. She shook her head and blinked, dragging herself away from pointless thoughts.

Looking at the people on the beach, she spotted the blonde bimbo at the lifeguard station at Third Street. She was really pretty, Stephanie had to admit, and what the guys would call stacked. Today a lime green bikini set off her flawless tan, a matching green visor framed her sun-streaked blonde hair, and wraparound sunglasses concealed her eyes. There were a couple of guys hanging around the base of her chair, and she looked down at them often, talking and laughing. One was the guy she'd been dancing with last night. He was cute, Stephanie decided, with curly blonde hair and a lean, tanned body.

Stephanie wondered where Carlos was stationed and if he had the same spot every day or if it changed. She wondered what his day off would be this week, and if it would coincide with hers. Unlikely, she knew. Besides, he'd probably spend it keeping an eye on Julio to give Lester a break.

Or else he'd be spending it with his girlfriend.

Why couldn't she stop thinking about him?

Stephanie decided fresh air and a little exercise might calm her busy mind, so she turned south and began walking.

_oOo_

Carlos sat in a low chair on his lifeguard stand and slathered sunscreen on his arms and chest. In spite of his dark skin and the cloudy day he had to be careful not to get burned. It was always surprising how much ultraviolet came through the cloud cover. If he got sunburned this early in the season he'd have a hard time healing and then be struggling to avoid it all summer.

He concentrated on the beach, a couple people in the water, kids running along the sand. He was exhausted, his sunglasses covering dark circles under his eyes that couldn't be disguised even by his dark skin. He hadn't slept at all, tossing and turning and imagining that dick-breath's mouth all over Stephanie's pristine white skin, his Dickie dick sliding into her moist pink warmth.

What really burned his ass was the fact that, from what he saw, the dickhead treated her like crap. He told her she stank, for Christ's sake. Just the thought of it had him vibrating with anger.

He exhaled. There was no getting around it. He was obsessed.

His eyes skimmed over the beach, ever vigilant, watching the few brave souls in the water, the children digging and splashing where sea met sand.

He used to believe that the best thing about lifeguarding was all the time for thinking, analyzing, planning. Now he thought that might be the worst thing about it.

Just for a moment he imagined Stephanie was his. He would make love to her, every inch of her, with his hands and his mouth until she was begging for him to enter her, and then he'd slide in, slow as a dream…

Fuck, he thought, looking around to make sure nobody was watching before adjusting himself. He had to stop fantasizing about her. It was pointless. A wholesome girl like Stephanie didn't belong with a lowlife like him. It could only hurt her, hurt them both if he gave in to his adolescent daydream. They just weren't meant to be.

But maybe they could be friends.

The breeze kicked up and he felt a faint chill as sweat evaporated from his chest. And then it turned into more, that unmistakable thrill that he knew meant Stephanie was nearby.

His eyes traced the beach, focusing on a couple of swimmers, noting positions, checking on the children near the water. Satisfied that nobody was in any danger he swiveled his head and shoulders around, his vision lasering straight to the black shirt with the ridiculous orange crab.

A beguiling smile touched Stephanie's lush lips, tugging at his heart, and her arm came up, fingers fluttering in a wave.

He felt the smile on his own face, and without any thought, any plan, any analysis, his hand beckoned to her in an involuntary gesture.

She started down the steps to the beach.

_TBC_


	19. Reason to Believe 8

**Reason to Believe 8**

Carlos again surveyed the swimmers, the children, noting their positions, then glanced back over his shoulder. Stephanie was sitting on the wooden steps, removing her shoes and socks. A few loose curls were flying in the breeze and her legs, so long and pale in the short white shorts, made his cock twitch. He turned back to scan the water again.

The hairs on his arms stood at attention and he knew Stephanie was approaching. He smiled down at her as she reached the sand below him. Slipping out of his chair, he slid to the front edge of the platform and dangled his legs off.

"Give me your hand, Babe." Carlos extended a long brown arm, his hand open, inviting.

Stephanie reached up and before she could blink she was sitting beside him on the lifeguard platform. Her breath caught in her throat at the strength in his arms, that he could lift her up so easily.

"Is this okay?" she asked. "I don't think I should be up here. You're working."

"It'll be okay for a few minutes. I'm still watching the swimmers. Besides, I need a favor." Carlos reached behind him, grabbed his tube of sunscreen and handed it to Stephanie. "Would you do my back? Please?"

Stephanie stilled and closed her eyes. The thought of putting her hands on that incredible, fantasy-perfect body, applying lotion, took her breath away. His hot thigh was pressed against hers, sending sizzling shimmers straight to her doodah. A daydream overtook her in which Carlos was stretched out on his stomach, naked, and she was straddling him, dripping scented oil down his back, massaging each well defined muscle. She moved herself down to his thighs and drizzled the oil over his glutes. Her hands were poised over the muscled cheeks, descending ever so slowly, about to grasp them…

"Breathe, Babe." His voice brought her back to awareness with a jolt, and she sucked in air. His arm was around her shoulders holding her upright.

"What…" Her eyes, sparkling sapphire in the hazy shore light, met his, threatening to suck him into their ocean depths and drown him.

He ripped himself away from her stare, looking back out at his swimmers, the children on the beach, his mind computing and comparing positions and movements.

"Are you okay, Babe?" he asked, using his peripheral vision to watch her chest heaving, breasts rising and falling as she dragged in oxygen. "I thought you were going to faint."

"Sorry," she said. "I'm just a space cadet. But it's okay now."

She reached out a hand for the sunscreen and scooted back on the platform until she was behind him.

Carlos had his hair pulled back into a short ponytail tied with a narrow strip of leather. Stephanie took his hair in her hand and lifted it. It was thick and fine and dark, like silk in her hand, and she stifled a sigh as she began spreading the sunscreen on his warm, coffee-with-cream skin. She was careful to cover every inch of his smooth, muscled back. She, too, knew the dangers of cloudy days on the beach, her fair skin so susceptible to burning.

Carlos was huge and pole-rigid the instant her lotion-slick hands began to glide over his back. As her fingers outlined his muscles and her palms caressed his skin, he couldn't stifle a groan.

When she reached the two dimples that bordered his spine just above the waistband of his navy blue board shorts, she stopped, afraid she was going to tear his clothes off and attack him, put on a show for the entire beach right there on the lifeguard platform.

"Okay, you can reach the rest." She was breathless again and had to keep reminding herself, inhale, exhale, in with the good, out with the bad.

When she slid back up next to Carlos, his eyes, black and opaque, took her prisoner. She tried to keep a space between them, but his arm pulled her tight to his side. Inhale, exhale…

"I think you're the one with the magic hands, Babe. Thanks," he murmured, giving her shoulder a little squeeze, his eyes releasing hers to scan the shoreline again.

"I've got to get going," she said. "It only takes me a few minutes to burn, even with sunscreen on. I usually rent an umbrella if I'm going to spend the day on the beach, even if it's cloudy."

"I can get an umbrella," Carlos told her. "They'll set one up, no charge, near my stand so I can use it on my breaks. Just let me know when you're going to be on the beach and I'll get one for you."

"Wednesday," Stephanie breathed. "That's my day off."

"I'll be working nine to four. Come down to the beach whenever you're ready and I'll have the umbrella here."

"Will you always be here at Fourth Street?" she asked, hoping.

"Should be. Unless something changes, this is my spot for the whole summer. If they switch me I'll let you know."

Stephanie leaned forward, preparing to jump from the platform. "See you later, Batman."

"Let me help you down." Without waiting for her reply he grabbed both her hands. "Grab my wrists, Babe."

When their hands were locked together, each grasping the other's wrists, Carlos spun Stephanie out into the air, swinging her around to face him and lowering her until her toes kissed the sand.

"See you on your break tonight?" Carlos asked, leaning down to view her upturned face, reluctant to release his hold on her.

"Sure," Stephanie answered with a blinding smile that pierced his chest. "See you later, Batman."

Freed from his touch, Stephanie squatted down to pick up her shoes and socks and gave a little wave goodbye as she trudged across the sand. She was still feeling the tingle of Carlos's thigh against hers, his hands holding her wrists, and was paying no attention to her surroundings. She climbed the steps to the boardwalk, thinking only of stopping at the public restrooms where there were showers and a spigot so she could rinse her feet before putting her shoes back on. It would be no fun to work the remaining six hours of her shift with sand between her toes.

As she turned north and began to walk she was shocked when a pair of heavy hands landed on her shoulders and jerked her around to face icy pale-gray eyes and a murderous voice.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

_TBC_


	20. Reason to Believe 9

**Reason to Believe 9**

"Oh, Dickie, there you are," Stephanie said, facing the anger on his face with a small, guilty smile. "I looked, but I didn't see you on the beach."

Dickie kept his hands on her shoulders. "What were you doing up on the lifeguard stand getting all cozy with that… that… _brother?_"

"Brother?" Stephanie questioned. "What do you mean? Carlos isn't a brother. Well, I mean, he is, he has a brother, but…"

"I mean it really pisses me off to see you putting your hands on someone of a different race."

"What?!" Stephanie was incredulous. "Carlos isn't a different race."

"Oh, it's just a tan, is it?" Dickie sneered.

"Are you being racist?" Stephanie asked, pushing his hands off her shoulders and putting her own hands on her hips, her eyes sparking. "Carlos is my friend, and I don't care what color his skin is. And furthermore, you have no right to tell me what I can or can't do."

A series of expressions flew across Dickie's face, making Stephanie want to laugh. The anger was replaced by shock, and then by craftiness, and finally an appeasing look won out.

He swung an arm around her shoulders, turning her and starting to walk up the boardwalk, propelling her along with him. "I'm sorry, Sugarplum. I guess I was a little jealous. I don't like seeing you with another guy."

He gave her his most winning smile, and Stephanie sighed. "It's okay. Carlos is just a friend, and he has a girlfriend. There's nothing to be jealous of."

Dickie kept his arm around her as they walked together, stopping at the pavilion so Stephanie could rinse the sand off her feet. When they arrived at the side door of the restaurant he drew her tight against him and kissed her, his lips gently parting hers and his tongue probing for entry.

Stephanie pulled away. "I've got to get inside. My lunch break is over."

"What do you want to do tonight?" he asked. "It's my last night here, so we should go somewhere. Back to Mac's? That was fun."

"I have to work again all day tomorrow," Stephanie told him, "so I don't really want to go anywhere. We were out kind of late last night, and I've been tired all day. Why don't we rent a movie and go back to my apartment?"

"You're turning into quite the homebody," he commented, and Stephanie wondered if he was being sarcastic.

"There's no point in you coming and hanging around tonight while I'm working," she told him. "Why don't you just pick me up at 10:30? I should be finished by then." She didn't want to get stuck paying for another lobster dinner and multiple beers.

"Okay, Sugarplum. Catch you later."

_oOo_

A minute after Stephanie walked away across the beach Carlos glanced back over his shoulder and saw her on the boardwalk with the dickhead. As he watched, she pushed his hands off her shoulders and took a step back. Her clenched fists flew to her hips, her cobalt eyes flashed, and she leaned forward slightly, her mouth moving.

A smile came unbidden to Carlos's lips. It sure looked like Stephanie was telling the dickass off. He wished he could hear what she was saying.

But then the dick smiled at her, put an arm around her and they walked off together. Carlos had to force his attention back to the water, checking on his swimmers, the kids, everyone around his station. Maintain awareness, he told himself. Always be aware of your surroundings.

When four o'clock finally came and his relief arrived Carlos yanked on his t-shirt and jogged barefoot up the beach, backpack on his back. Ashley was standing at the base of her stand at Third Street with a couple of guys, and she called to him, "Carlos, wait up," but he ignored her and increased his pace. She hadn't shown up for his breaks today, much to his relief, so he hadn't had to fend her off.

At the locker room he stowed his beach gear, put on his running shoes and took off, running at top speed through the streets of Point Pleasant Beach, pushing, always pushing. He didn't understand how Stephanie could be with an asshole like that dickbreath. It made him so furious to see his hands on her that he wanted to beat the crap out of him.

He'd already run ten miles that morning, but the more he pushed, the less he thought about Stephanie. He needed to get in his zone to force the insane thoughts about her out of his head. Guys like him didn't get the happily-ever-after. Ending up in the morgue was much more likely.

He pushed himself until his breath burned in his throat and his thighs ached. After almost an hour he looked at his watch. He had to get back to his room to shower and change so he could keep watch at the restaurant.

He staggered up the stairs, knees shaking, and met Julio and Lester on their way out. "I'll be over in a few minutes," he told them, and wobbled into the shower.

_oOo_

Carlos leaned against the fence in the parking lot of Crabster's. He'd thought it was going to be a real drag having to stay out here night after night, but found himself quite looking forward to it. As long as Stephanie was inside, there was nowhere he'd rather be.

Except inside her.

Stop it, he told himself, shifting as his cock stirred. Remember, you're going to be strong and not think about her all the time.

But he couldn't keep a brilliant smile from his face when she came out for her break at eight thirty juggling a Coke, a bottle of water, a paper plate of fries and a plastic container of salad. He hurried over to help before she dropped something.

"Hey, Batman. Julio said you like salad," Stephanie said, handing it to him, the brightness of her smile matching his, "and I thought you might be hungry."

"Thanks, Babe," he said, taking the salad and water and sitting down on the bench next to her.

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"How's your shift going?" Carlos asked her as he finished his salad. "Looks busy."

"Yeah, I've been running my ass off," Stephanie answered. "Not that my ass couldn't use a little bit off."

Carlos captured her eyes, his dark and unreadable in the dusk. "Your ass is perfect, Babe."

Stephanie blushed and looked away, concentrating on taking a swallow of Coke. "I wasn't fishing for compliments, Batman, but thanks."

She finished her fries, set down her Coke and leaned her head against Carlos's shoulder, sighing. "I'm tired. This waitress stuff is hard work."

He slipped his arm around her and drew her against his muscled torso. "Just rest here for a few minutes. Take a little nap and I'll wake you up in five."

He was warm and solid, and his arm around her chased away the chill of the evening damp. Stephanie closed her eyes and drifted.

She was standing on a dance floor alone, wearing a scarlet dress with layer upon layer of ruffles cascading down in tiers. Her eyes were closed, and she swayed to the music, a throbbing Latin beat.

All of a sudden gooseflesh crawled over her arms and legs, and heat shimmered through her, flushing her face. She opened her eyes and there he stood, dressed all in black with a silk shirt unbuttoned to the waist. His mocha chest gleamed in the light reflected back from the stage, and his long sleeves were rolled up to just below the elbow, revealing smooth, muscled forearms.

How could eyes be so dark and yet burning with heat at the same time, she wondered as she stared, mesmerized.

He held his arms out to her and she floated into them, her feet not touching the ground. And then they were moving to the beat.

The pulsing of the music vibrated through her soul, and his hardness against her had her dripping, aching for him. His mouth descended on hers, devouring, his tongue flicking and producing towering waves of lust breaking over her like a hurricane-driven sea.

His hands reached down her sides and slid slowly up her thighs under her skirt, finally cupping her ass and lifting her against his hardness.

"Your ass is perfect, Babe," he murmured into her ear as she wrapped her legs around his hips, locking her ankles behind him to press their centers of desire even closer.

"I want you, Carlos," she whispered.

And then the door crashed open.

Stephanie came awake with a jerk.

It was Lester. "Julio's gone."

_TBC_


	21. Reason to Believe 10

**Reason to Believe 10**

"Fuck," muttered Carlos under his breath, jumping to his feet. He was furious with himself for allowing his awareness to lapse. He should have been sitting nearer the front corner of the building so he could keep his eye on the front door. But Stephanie had a way of drawing his attention, of sucking him in so that he could see nothing but her. Julio must have sensed that and used it.

"He can't have been gone more than a minute," Lester said. "He shouldn't be far. I'll help you look."

"No," Carlos commanded, his quiet authority evident. "Go back inside and do your job. We don't need both of you getting fired. I'll find him."

"Can I help?" Stephanie asked. "I can stretch my break out for a bit."

Carlos hesitated.

"Les, tell Mary Lou and Tina to cover for me a little longer," Stephanie ordered and grabbed Carlos's arm, starting for the boardwalk.

"I'm so sorry, Carlos," she said as they matched long strides up the ramp. "It was my fault for distracting you."

Stephanie sounded so guilty and contrite that Carlos put an arm around her and planted a kiss on the top of her curls. "It's not your fault, Babe. Don't feel bad. We'll find him."

They stood together side by side on the boardwalk, Carlos looking north and Stephanie looking south. "If you haven't spotted him in fifteen minutes, go back to work, Babe," Carlos said. "I'm going to keep looking until I find him."

Stephanie walked down the boardwalk, her eyes scanning faces, glancing in stores, looking for the white t-shirt and khaki shorts that were the busboys' uniform, watching for Julio's longish, dark-brown hair and nut-brown skin. Since it was still so early in the season, the boardwalk wasn't as crowded as it would be on a Saturday evening in mid-summer, so she knew she'd spot him if he was nearby.

As she looked across the boardwalk, one of the large trash bins caught her eye. Hanging out of the closed swing-top was a long white strip. She hesitated and crossed the boardwalk to the can, pushing in the top and pulling on the white sash until the rest of the garment came out.

She knew it! It was the white bib apron Julio had been wearing. He must have dumped it right away.

Damn, thought Stephanie, I wish I had Carlos's cell phone number. Her own phone was in the pocket of her shorts, set on vibrate, and she could have called him and told him to come back this way.

She kept walking down the boardwalk at a rapid pace, carrying the apron and continuing to study every person she saw.

When she got to Fourth Street she hesitated, looking down the street. Would he have left the boardwalk? No, she decided. He wanted drugs, so he'd be looking to steal a purse or lift someone's wallet first so he'd have money. Then he'd go looking to make a buy.

She walked on. Half a block later the whirring and whistling and gonging of an arcade caught her attention. The night Julio took her wallet they were in an arcade. She walked to the doorway, her eyes searching the bodies clustered around the video games.

There!

The white t-shirt and dark hair stood out like a beacon. Julio was in a small crowd around a Tekken 5 game watching a skinny, freckled guy with spiked-up red hair playing an Asian kid who looked about twelve.

Julio was standing in the back with a slim blonde teenager, her back completely revealed by a black halter top that tied at the neck and waist. The two appeared to be pretty tight, murmuring into each other's ears, exchanging small touches and caresses.

Stephanie hesitated for a moment, wishing she had a way of reaching Carlos, and then made up her mind.

Dropping the apron she was still carrying, she marched over and shoved her way between Julio and the blonde, grabbing his arm. "What the hell is going on here?" she demanded. "Julio, you were supposed to meet me half an hour ago."

She turned to the blonde, keeping a tight hold on Julio. "And you! You just keep your hands off of him. He's mine, and don't you forget it."

The girl shrank back, holding up both hands. "Sorry. He didn't mention that he had a girlfriend." Now that she got a good look at the girl, Stephanie thought she looked about fifteen, and scared to death.

"Hmph!" Stephanie stuck her nose up in the air. "Come on, Julio, let's go. Carlos is waiting." She grabbed his hand, wrapped her other hand around his arm and pulled him toward the boardwalk, stopping to scoop up the apron from where she'd dropped it.

"Do you have a cell phone?" she asked Julio when they got out to the boardwalk.

He was sullen, pouting. "No. My asshole brother took it."

Probably afraid he'd call his dealer, Stephanie thought. She kept a firm grip on his arm as she reached into her pocket for her phone. "What's Carlos's number?" she asked, thumb poised to punch in the number.

"I don't know," Julio muttered, but she could tell from the look on his face that he was lying.

"Fine," Stephanie said, "then we'll meet him back at the restaurant." She shoved her phone back in her pocket and resumed her two-handed grasp on his arm.

Only a block and a half, she thought, dragging Julio along. But he resisted, and in spite of his scrawny build he was still several inches taller and considerably stronger than her.

When they got to the top of the ramp down onto Fourth Street Julio made his move, swinging his free arm around to smack her in the face with his closed fist. As she flew backwards he jerked his arm away, leaving her to smash into the side wall of the building on the corner.

The back of Stephanie's head slammed into the wood siding so hard she saw stars. Dizzy and disoriented, she slid down the wall to sit on the boards, knees bent, tears filling her eyes.

Julio was already halfway down to the street when Carlos vaulted the railing, dropping lightly to the pavement and reaching the bottom of the ramp just in time to catch him by the scruff of the neck. Carlos swung him around with one hand and bashed him with a stiff uppercut to the chin, leaving him lying there in an unconscious heap and tearing back up the ramp to Stephanie.

_TBC_


	22. Reason to Believe 11

**Reason to Believe 11**

"Babe," Carlos whispered as he bent over and scooped Stephanie up into his arms as easily as one would pick up a child. He carried her down the ramp to a bench along the sidewalk where he could keep an eye on Julio's crumpled form. Holding her against his chest he sat down with her on his lap.

"Carlos," she sniffled, snuggling the uninjured side of her face into his neck. "I didn't have your phone number."

"I'm so sorry, Babe." His heart ached at the sight of the purple bruise already developing on her face. She was going to have a black eye, he thought, and the guilt ate at his gut. "I never thought Julio would hurt you."

"It's okay, Batman." Stephanie could see that he was blaming himself. "It's not your fault. A little ice and I'll be fine."

But in truth, Stephanie's head was spinning, and nausea bubbled up in her stomach.

"Look at me for a minute." Carlos used his fingers under her chin to turn her head so he could see her beautiful blue eyes, studying the pupils for signs of irregularity. They looked okay to him, dilated but both the same size. "Do you feel dizzy, or sick to your stomach?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine." Stephanie grasped his shoulders and slid off his lap, keeping one hand on him for support. "I need to get back to work. And you need to take care of Julio. I'll make an excuse for him at the restaurant, say he got sick and had to leave or something."

She let go of Carlos's shoulder and took a step back. "See ya, Batman."

As she turned to walk away a wave of dizziness washed over her. She stopped, swaying, and would have fallen if Carlos hadn't jumped up off the bench and caught her in his arms again. He put an arm under the back of her knees and lifted her up, carrying her back to the bench and setting her down. Crouching between her legs, he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet concerned brown eyes.

"Stephanie, don't ever lie to me." His voice was deep and serious. "You're dizzy, aren't you?"

"I wasn't lying. I really thought I'd be fine." Her lips pressed out in a little moue that was so erotic that his mouth trembled with the need to lick it, nip it, suck it in.

He fought off the desire that threatened his composure. "And how about your stomach? Do you feel sick?"

She tried to look down, away from those deep, compelling eyes, but he tipped her head back with his hand until she was forced to meet his gaze and admit it. "A little."

Carlos wasn't going to take any chances with her. "I think we should take a ride to the emergency clinic and get you checked out."

"Nooo…" she moaned. "I hate the hospital. I'm okay. I just need to rest a bit and I'll be fine."

She started to get up, but he wrapped her up in his arms and lifted her enough to bring her back into his lap as he slid underneath her. "Okay, Babe, but you're not going back to work. I'll call in for you."

"No, let me." Stephanie reached into her pocket for her cell phone, punching in a speed dial number.

"Lou, it's me," she said, trying to keep her tone upbeat.

"What's wrong? Where are you?" Carlos pressed his cheek against Stephanie's, the phone between them so he could hear Mary Lou's concern.

"I'm on the boardwalk, and I'm fine, just had a little accident, tripped over my own feet and bumped my head."

"Omigod, Steph, are you okay? Is Julio with you?"

"Julio is here, and he's banged up, too. Do you think you and Tina and Lester can cover things for the rest of our shift?"

"Of course we can. The crowd is starting to thin out now, so it'll be no problem. I'll have Tina talk to Uncle Tommy. I'm sure it'll be fine." Mary Lou came back with another question. "Do you need someone to come get you? Do you want me to call Dickie?"

"No, not necessary. Carlos is here. He'll get me home."

"Ahh," Mary Lou said knowingly. "Well, tell Carlos to take good care of you and we'll see you at the apartment around ten-thirty or so."

Stephanie pushed the end button on her phone and said, "I need to call Dickie. He was supposed to pick me up at the restaurant after work."

She pressed speed dial for Dickie and listened to the ringing. Just when she was certain it was about to transfer to voicemail he answered, sounding very drunk, music blasting in the background. "Hey, there Shhhugarplummmm."

"Are you drunk?" Stephanie asked. "Where are you?"

"At Mac's. Are you finished work? You should come meet me here. There's a great band tonight and we could dance, like last night."

Carlos was still listening to every word, his cheek against Stephanie's, the phone pressed between them.

Stephanie shifted the phone to her other ear, tipped her head away from Carlos and spoke softly. "Dickie, I told you I didn't want to go out tonight. I have to work tomorrow, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember now. We were gonna rent movies and shnuggle on the couch."

"Do you have your car there? Because you sound like you're not in any condition to drive."

"I'm fine, Shhhugarplummmm. When will you be done?"

"I won't be home for a while, a couple of hours. Why don't you switch to Cokes now so you sober up a bit before you have to drive, okay? Then you can pick up a couple of movies on your way over. I'll meet you at my apartment about eleven."

"Okay, Shhhugarplummmm. Bye."

Stephanie disconnected, wishing he hadn't been drinking, not wanting to see him tonight.

While Stephanie was talking on the phone, Julio began to stir, and Carlos kept a close eye on him as he groaned and sat up, rubbing at the swelling on his jaw with the back of his hand and blinking. When Julio saw Carlos sitting there with Stephanie on his lap, his mouth dropped open. It was obvious when the memory of what happened hit his disoriented consciousness. His brow furrowed and remorse flashed across his face.

Julio winced and struggled to his feet, staggering over to the bench and flopping down beside Carlos and Stephanie on the side where he could see Stephanie's face. He reached out and fingers soft as a breeze fluttered over the bruise on her cheek. His touch stroked down her arm and he took her hand in both of his.

"I'm so sorry, Steph." His voice was deep with regret, and shame-filled brown eyes couldn't hold hers, dropping to stare at their joined hands. "I have no excuse, but I promise you it will never happen again."

Stephanie reached her other hand out to lay a gentle palm on his cheek, bringing his gaze back to hers. His eyes were so much like Carlos's, she thought, warm and intelligent and turbulent with emotion.

"It's okay, Julio," she said, turning on Carlos's lap so she could swing her arm around Julio's neck, bringing his head to her shoulder. She leaned back into Carlos, her head nestling against his chest, curls tickling his neck. "Let's just rest a few minutes and then we'll go home."

_TBC_


	23. Reason to Believe 12

**Reason to Believe 12**

"Wake up, Babe." Carlos broke through Stephanie's dream of floating on a magic carpet in a warm sea, ripples of rich, sweet mocha licking over her in blissful comfort.

Julio lifted his head from her shoulder, still holding her hand, and Carlos turned her sideways so he could see her face.

"We need to get going and get some ice on both of you to keep the swelling down," he said. "Do you think you can walk back to your place? Or should I go get my car?"

Stephanie giggled, groggy. "You'd bring the Batmobile just for me?" She realized what she was saying and blinked herself awake. "I'm fine. I can walk."

Carlos kept his arm around her waist and Julio had a hand on her shoulder as they started down Fourth Street toward Stephanie's apartment. It was full dark, and the scents of the boardwalk followed them on the ocean breeze—cotton candy, salt water taffy, pizza, French fries, and other delicious odors, underlaid by the rich, ripe smell of the ocean itself.

The sound of the arcade floated to their ears, bells and buzzers and whistles, with the ding-ding-ding-ding-ding of triumph as someone set a new record on one of the video games. Voices from the boardwalk carried in the night air, excited children and cautioning parents, teens calling out to their friends. And beneath it all the reverberation of the incoming tide, inexorable ocean waves breaking on the sand.

_oOo_

The small television was tuned to a baseball game, the sound low. Stephanie was asleep sitting on the couch, Carlos's arms around her and her head on his shoulder, plastic bag of partially melted ice between her cheek and his collarbone and a second bag held on the back of her head by his opposite hand. Julio was slumped down on the other side of her, holding a bag of ice to his jaw.

Through the open window Carlos heard the voices coming a block away, so he wasn't surprised when Mary Lou and Lenny, Tina and Lester burst in through the door, all talking at once.

Stephanie awoke with a jerk, her cheek and the back of her head cold from the ice but the rest of her cozy and comfortable from the heat Carlos always seemed to emanate. She thought he must have a really high metabolism to be so warm all the time.

"Omigod, Steph, you've got a black eye!" exclaimed Tina as she and Mary Lou clustered around the couch, both eying Carlos's arms around Stephanie. "What happened?"

Julio got up to allow the girls more room, and Carlos released Stephanie, removing the ice packs so they could examine the injuries.

"Oh, it was just me being clumsy," Stephanie said, and the lie slid off her tongue smooth as silk. "Julio and I went up on the boardwalk for our break and I tripped and took him down with me. But we're both fine now, right Julio?"

"Uh-huh," he muttered, taking his ice pack to the tiny kitchen to remove himself from the center of attention.

Tina was running exploratory fingers over the back of Stephanie's head. "Wow, you've got a pretty good lump back here. What'd you do, hit the back of your head on the boardwalk?"

"Yeah," she agreed, not wanting to go into details that might trip her up in her prevarication.

"You should ice it for twenty minutes, then take the ice off for twenty minutes, and keep repeating that for the first twenty-four hours," said Tina, showing off her knowledge. With one year of nursing school under her belt, Stephanie and Mary Lou considered her their first source for medical questions.

"How long has the ice been on?" Tina asked.

Carlos answered her. "It was on twenty, off twenty, and just put it back on."

"Okay," Tina said, finished with her assessment. "Put it back on, then."

Carlos wrapped Stephanie back up in his arms.

Mary Lou and Tina went into the kitchen to round up some snacks, driving Julio back into the living room. Lenny and Lester took the two easy chairs, and Julio dropped back onto the couch by Stephanie.

"Lenny," said Lester, "This is Carlos and Julio Manoso, my best friends. Guys, this is Lenny, uh…"

"Stankovic," Lenny supplied.

"Mary Lou's fiancé," Lester continued. "He has a plumbing business with his father and brother."

"Pleased to meetcha," Lenny said, rising and shaking hands with Julio. Carlos didn't stand up, but he released Stephanie's ice pack long enough to offer a hand.

Mary Lou and Tina came back with a bowl of pretzels and a couple big bottles of soda, and in the ensuing chatter nobody heard the knock at the door or noticed it opening.

But everyone heard the roar. "What the fuck is going on here?"

Dickie Orr came stomping into the room and shoved a large brown paper bag at Mary Lou, who happened to be nearest the door.

"Get your fffucking fffilthy hands off my girlfffriend," Dickie screamed, beer-scented saliva spraying from his lips with every "f" sound. He clenched his fist and swung a wild roundhouse punch at Carlos's face.

Carlos saw it coming a mile away and shoved Stephanie over to Julio, jerking his head out of the way with perfect timing. Dickie swung all the way around, off balance after the missed punch, and quick as a striking rattlesnake Carlos had him flat on his face on the floor, knee in the small of his back and Dickie's arm twisted up behind him all the way to his shoulder blades.

"Get your fffucking hands offff me!" Dickie squirmed a little, trying to relieve the pressure on his arm, but Carlos held firm, turning his head to look at Stephanie and raising an eyebrow.

Stephanie was half on Julio's lap, his arms around her. She ran light fingers across Julio's cheek, murmuring "Thanks," and extricated herself, standing up and walking around to where she could see Dickie's face.

Hands on hips she stared down at Dickie until he met her eyes. "I think we need to have a talk," she told him, and then nodded to Carlos. "Okay, let him go."

When Dickie scrambled up, fists clenched, Stephanie took his arm and drew him away from Carlos. "Excuse us for a few minutes," she said to the group, and pulled Dickie into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

_TBC_


	24. Reason to Believe 13

**Reason to Believe 13**

Carlos stared at the closed bedroom door, wondering what was going on behind it. Just talk, he hoped, and then mentally kicked himself. He's Stephanie's boyfriend, he reminded himself, even if he is a dickwad. Get a grip.

"So," Mary Lou said, rummaging around in Dickie's brown paper grocery bag, trying to draw everyone's attention away from the closed door. "Let's see what we've got here… Beer, uh-huh, Lenny, baby, will you put this in the fridge please?"

Lenny hopped up to do her bidding.

"And," Mary Lou continued, "microwave popcorn, that's good." She tossed the two cellophane packets to Tina, who caught them one after the other with ease.

"And… movies! Oh, boy, a Batman marathon. Batman Begins and the Dark Knight." She addressed Lenny as he returned from the kitchen. "Did you bring the big TV and DVD player?"

"Yup, out in the truck." He glanced around. "I could use a little help bringing it upstairs."

Carlos was already standing, and he nodded and started toward the door. Lester and Julio both popped up from their seats and followed.

_oOo_

Stephanie pushed on Dickie's shoulders until he flopped to a seat on her bed with a bounce. He gave her a boozy grin and reached for her, saying, "Now this is more like it. C'mere, Sugarplum."

She evaded his attempted grab without difficulty. "We need to talk," she said, sitting down on Tina's bed opposite him.

For the first time since arriving Dickie really looked at Stephanie's face. "Jesus, Stephanie, what the hell happened to your face? You look like you got in a brawl. Did that asshole hit you?"

Stephanie's head ached and her face hurt when she talked, so she was short with him. "No. I tripped and banged my head on the boardwalk." The lie was already becoming the truth in Stephanie's mind.

"Jesus, you were practically sitting on that black bastard's lap. How could you let him touch you like that?" Dickie plowed on, oblivious to the warning flashing in Stephanie's eyes. "Are you fucking him?"

Sarcasm dripped from her voice. "Well, thank you very much. That's so sweet of you. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming."

She narrowed her eyes. "I have a headache and I don't have any patience to deal with your insane jealous bullshit, so I'm telling you this once more, and this is the last time." Blue eyes grabbed hold of gray and held. "Carlos is my friend, nothing more. If you're going to be this way every time I have a guy friend, then we might as well forget it right now, because I won't stand for it."

"Aww, Sugarplum, I'm sorry," Dickie said, leaning forward onto the balls of his feet and dropping to his knees in front of Stephanie. He put his hands on her thighs and slid them up and around her hips to cup her ass. "I just can't stand to see you with another guy."

He rubbed up her back to her neck and around to frame her face with both hands, taking care to avoid the bruised cheek. His cool gray eyes dilated and darkened and warmed. His voice was so low she had to strain to hear him. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

Stephanie's heart melted at his words and the look on his face, and she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, sweet and tender.

Dickie dropped his hands back down to part her knees and pulled her forward by the hips, pressing himself between her legs and taking control of the kiss. He was hard, and Stephanie went damp as her mind rocketed to Carlos, the feeling of his huge erection between her legs when he carried her out of the ocean. She opened her mouth when Dickie's tongue sought entry, seeing behind her closed eyelids silky dark hair falling around a bronzed face with eyes as dark as midnight.

She was gasping for air by the time the kiss ended.

"I want you so much," Dickie whispered, still holding her against him.

Stephanie opened her eyes and leaned back to look at his face, her heart dropping to find gray eyes and short, dark blonde hair instead of the warm chocolaty eyes and long hair she'd been fantasizing about.

"I can't," she said, eyes lined with regret. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Sugarplum. If you want to save yourself for marriage, I can live with that."

Stephanie almost laughed, but managed to keep her face composed. "Come on," she said, "let's go back out to the living room. Did you bring movies?"

_oOo_

Carlos was helping Lenny hook up the big plasma TV, but the second the bedroom door opened all his attention was on Stephanie. Stiletto pain lanced his heart as he observed her soft expression and red, puffy lips. How the hell could she let that dickmouth kiss her?

She led the dickless wonder by the hand over to the couch and they sat down together. The ice bags lay forgotten on the end table and Carlos walked over to hand them to Stephanie.

"It's been twenty minutes," he said. "Time to put these back on."

Stephanie gave him the most beautiful smile as she took the icepacks. "Thanks for taking care of me, Carlos."

_oOo_

Stephanie slept through both movies, Dickie's arm around her, Carlos sitting on her other side on the couch. The ice packs lay forgotten on the floor until Carlos refilled them with fresh ice and woke Stephanie up between movies. She put them back on, but was soon asleep again.

Everyone else was asleep, too, by the end of the second movie, even Carlos, leaning back into the corner of the couch, his knee firm against Stephanie's thigh. Julio was curled up on the floor in front of them, while Mary Lou and Tina were sitting on Lenny's and Lester's laps in the two easy chairs.

Stephanie woke up just enough to give Dickie a quick goodnight kiss before disappearing into the bedroom. Her injuries had subsided to a faint ache by that time and she collapsed into bed and was asleep again in seconds.

Two hours later, just as the sky was beginning to lighten with the approaching dawn, Stephanie awoke to warm lips on her face and gentle hands on her bare shoulders.

"Wake up, Babe," whispered the figure kneeling next to her bed.

"Batman?" she whispered, not sure if she was awake or asleep, if it was a dream or real.

"Just checking on you." His voice was no more than a breath, no disturbance at all to Tina in the next bed. "How's your head?"

"It's fine." Stephanie trembled from his nearness, from the touch of his fingers on her skin.

"Are you cold?"

"I'm okay," she whispered, but goosebumps covered her flesh making her shiver again.

"Turn over," Carlos whispered and when she complied he slid into the narrow bed behind her, slipping his bottom arm under her neck and wrapping his other arm around her waist.

The thought of Tina waking up and finding Carlos in bed with her crossed Stephanie's mind for an instant, but his warmth and the strong beat of his heart against her back were soporific. Within moments she was back asleep, dreaming of his lips on hers, his touch on her body.

When she awoke in the morning he was gone, and disappointed, she decided it must have been a dream. But when she sat up she found on her nightstand a small piece of paper. Written in bold slashing script was the word "Carlos" and a Newark-area phone number.

**TBC in Part 3—The Secret's in the Telling**


	25. The Secret's in the Telling 1

_Warning: Things are heating up. Something pretty close to smut here._

**Part 3—The Secret's in the Telling**

_There is a secret that we keep  
I won't sleep if you won't sleep  
Because tonight may be the last chance we'll be given  
We are compelled to do what we must do  
We are compelled to do what we have been forbidden_

_—Chris Carrabba_

1

Wednesday it rained all over Stephanie's parade. She had been so looking forward to having the day off and spending time on the beach under Carlos's umbrella. The lifeguard job provided long breaks between bouts of staring at the swimmers out in the ocean, and she'd been fantasizing about applying sunscreen to Carlos again and having him do the same to her. The thought of her hands on him and his on her sent shivers up and down her spine and made her warm in all the right places.

But she awoke to dark clouds and showers, and knew he wouldn't be on the beach today. All the lifeguards would probably be off, and most likely Carlos would spend the day with his girlfriend. Stephanie was more disappointed than she should be.

"See you later," she said to Mary Lou and Tina as they left for the restaurant. They were working the lunch shift today and would be finished at three.

Still wearing the skimpy tank top and panties she'd slept in, Stephanie channel surfed until she found an old movie and stretched out on the couch, volume low. It was such a relief to have a day off. She was sick to death of fielding questions about her black eye from customers. She'd tried to cover it with concealer and makeup, but it still showed. So she'd amused herself by seeing how the customers reacted to various fictional explanations.

"Mud wrestling," she told one middle-aged couple, causing their mouths to fall open in astonishment.

Julio worked on Tuesday evening and stayed close, listening to her various explanations with an almost-smile on his face. "Bounty hunting," he muttered under his breath as she passed him, and gave her a delighted grin when she used it on the next customer that asked.

When it came time for her break Carlos was at the door waiting, and the first thing he did was study her face, hands on her shoulders. After running careful fingers over the diminishing bump on the back of her head he gave a very slight nod of approval, grazed his lips across her bruised cheekbone and settled on the bench with her. They sat in comfortable silence for her fifteen minutes, thighs pressed together, with Stephanie drinking her Coke and Carlos sipping the water she brought out for him.

"See you on the beach tomorrow, Babe?" he asked when she rose to go back inside.

She nodded. "I'll be there, Batman."

_oOo_

Carlos felt a swell of satisfaction when he looked out the window Wednesday morning. Raining. He wouldn't have to work. He could spend hours with Stephanie instead of just half hour breaks on the beach with the world watching and Ashley hovering. Ashley still tended to show up for his breaks, following him up onto the boardwalk, possessive, taking his arm and slipping her hand under his t-shirt to caress the skin of his back.

He avoided her as much as possible, and ignored her the rest of the time. But she didn't take the hint.

After calling the Recreation Department to make sure he didn't need to show up, Carlos showered and dressed, leaving Julio and Lester sleeping. Since the incident with Stephanie on Saturday night Julio had been much more like his old self. Carlos knew they weren't out of the woods yet, but Julio was so appalled at his own behavior that he was really trying now. It was heartening to see.

Carlos took his car, an old but well maintained black Ford Explorer, to the large shopping center at the outskirts of Point Pleasant to pick up a few groceries. Half an hour later he was dropping them off in his room, storing milk, juice and cheese in the mini-fridge and stacking cereal and crackers on top of the microwave. Lester and Julio would have plenty to eat today, and he was free until Lester had to leave for his dinner shift at the restaurant.

Carlos found a parking spot just a few houses down from Stephanie's place. Lucky. Parking was always difficult in Point Pleasant during the summer, the streets lined with cars. It was heading toward noon. He wondered if Stephanie would like to go out to lunch.

He climbed the stairs and tapped on the apartment door.

_oOo_

Stephanie was having the most erotic dream. She was floating on her stomach on a smooth, rippled raft in a bathwater-warm sea, gentle swells carrying her up and down in the sun. The water lapped over the edges of the raft to tickle her bare breasts, her nipples hardening and sending tingles down through her belly. The sea ran between her thighs, soft as satin on her pussy, making the juices well up from deep within. The sky was crystal azure, the sea a clear aqua, and the clean, spicy scent of the air brought with it a sense of absolute contentment. She'd never experienced anything so pleasurable before.

She drowsed, drifting in and out of consciousness, feeling terrific, warm and cozy and well rested, if a little damp down below. What a great nap, she thought. Who knew the couch was so comfortable?

She lay there limp and relaxed. But she still felt like the swells were carrying her, rising and falling with gentle regularity. And then through her half-asleep daze came the realization that it wasn't a dream. She was really moving.

Her eyes fluttered open and she tensed and began to push herself up, confused.

"Relax, Babe."

At the sound of Carlos's voice Stephanie calmed. The floating motion was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. She allowed her head to tip back from where it had been buried in his neck and she saw that she was lying on top of him. Her legs were spread and he was hard between them.

"Batman," she whispered as their eyes met, his dilated deep and black, her vibrant blue darkening to indigo, tied together in a union that seemed preordained.

The feeling of her dream was still with her, and without thinking Stephanie drew her knees up to increase the contact and thrust her pelvis against him, the feeling of his hardness through the thin silk of her panties sending almost painful waves of desire shuddering through her.

Carlos gave a groan and slid one hand down from her back to her buttocks, pressing her even tighter against him.

They were both panting by this time, eyes locked, both moving to increase the delicious friction between them. When Carlos took her mouth with his, tongues tangling, Stephanie burst into climax with a moan that he felt all the way to his toes. As the tremors quaked though her, Carlos couldn't hold back any longer, joining her in feverish release.

_TBC_


	26. The Secret's in the Telling 2

**The Secret's in the Telling 2**

Stephanie buried her face in Carlos's neck, furiously embarrassed by what just happened. She'd never had an orgasm with a guy before. Even though she wasn't a virgin, she hadn't had an experience like that, ever.

"Babe," Carlos said, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his neck, trying to think of how she could get away without him seeing her face. She still straddled him, and between the two of them his pants were soaked.

"Nothing to be sorry about," he said, sliding a hand up into her wild curls and pulling a little, wanting to see her face. But she kept her face hidden. "Babe, look at me. I need to see your face."

He gave another careful tug and she finally moved her head back enough so he could see her. Her face was flushed and wetness glittered in her eyes.

"What's wrong, Stephanie?" Carlos asked. "Don't cry, Babe. Tell me why you're upset."

Stephanie blinked back tears. "I'm sorry, Carlos. I'm not like that. I don't know what got into me."

Carlos had been softening after his climax, but at her words he was rock hard again. He wanted to be what got into her, into her body and into her heart.

He berated himself for his thoughts. She was so innocent. She was embarrassed by what happened. He was bewitched.

"It was beautiful, Babe. You're beautiful. I wish…" He stopped. It just couldn't be, and he didn't want to mislead her.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing." He shifted beneath her, sitting up and lifting her so she ended up on his lap. "I was hoping to take you out to lunch, if you'll do me the honor."

She was still having a hard time meeting his eyes. "How'd you get in? I'm sure I had the door locked."

"Just the knob was locked, easy enough to slip with a credit card. You really should keep the deadbolt locked and the chain on when you're in here alone, Babe." He didn't tell her that the sleeve of tiny tools he carried in his wallet would have opened the deadbolt and the chain as well if he so desired. He'd learned well in his not-so-innocent youth.

She slanted a sideways look at him, pink suffusing her face. "How did we…?" Her arm swung out in a circular gesture at the couch.

"You looked so comfortable I didn't want to disturb you, just to hold you for a minute." As soon as he squeezed onto the couch next to her Stephanie rolled on top of him, but he didn't want to embarrass her any further.

"So," he continued when she didn't respond, "what do you say to lunch?"

She looked away, still blushing. "Okay. So I guess I should get dressed." Without meeting his eyes she hopped up and scurried into the bathroom.

_oOo_

An hour later they were seated opposite each other in a booth in a small, airy restaurant called Le Jardin, their knees touching under the narrow table. Abundant greenery hung from the ceiling, lush and verdant under a multitude of skylights. Even the lowering skies couldn't disturb the brightness of the space, Carlos noted with appreciation. He loved the brilliance of Stephanie's lapis lazuli eyes in the natural light.

Stephanie kept those eyes fixed on the menu, still self-conscious about what happened between them. Carlos wasn't embarrassed, but he was a little surprised. He was usually able to control himself nowadays, and it had been several years since he'd come in his pants like that. Something about Stephanie…

While she was in the shower Carlos trotted out to his car for the duffel bag he always carried. He sat on the couch, waiting, and when Stephanie hurried into her bedroom wearing only a towel he had that instant erection again. While she was getting dressed, he used the bathroom to wash up and changed into a clean pair of black jeans from his bag.

When they'd both ordered, a burger and fries for Stephanie, a salad for Carlos, the silence stretched between them, no longer the comfortable peacefulness they shared sitting on the bench outside Crabster's.

Stephanie cleared her throat, not quite meeting his eyes. "Thanks for this," she waved at their surroundings, "but how come you're buying me lunch?"

"Wanted to thank you for finding Julio the other night."

"No biggie. I was glad to help." And how much more awkward could this be? Stephanie thought.

"I'm sorry he hurt you, Babe," Carlos's force of personality was so strong that Stephanie's eyes were drawn to his face as if by an irresistible force. "But I think maybe it was the wake-up call he needed. He's been better."

"I'm really glad. He seemed good at the restaurant last night."

"He mentioned how creative you were with your explanations for the black eye." Carlos smiled full out, and Stephanie's heart melted. "It's fading already."

"Yeah, I'm a quick healer." She smiled back.

And then things were smooth between them again.

Sitting face to face like that gave their interaction a whole different dynamic than sitting side by side on the bench during break time, and Stephanie found herself telling Carlos about her first year of college, how her mother hadn't wanted to let her go away but her dad and grandmother sided with her.

"Not that I'm that far from home," Stephanie said, "less than an hour, but at least my mom isn't monitoring every move I make." After a pause for a bite of burger, she asked, "What about you? Rutgers Newark, right?"

It wasn't easy for Carlos to talk about his life. And he wasn't sure how he was going to handle things when he went back to school in the fall. Julio's addiction had been a real wake-up call for him, and he didn't know if he was going to be able to extricate himself from the organization he'd been involved with. For the first time he realized that all the illegal activities—the drugs, the numbers running, the smuggling—weren't right, weren't where he wanted to position himself, especially if he wanted a future in the business world.

The easy money wasn't worth the wrongness of what he was doing, he thought, thinking about Julio's problems. And the innocent trust Stephanie gave him so willingly made him want to deserve it. Idiot, he thought, but the sweet smile on her face as he told her about his Grandma Rosa and her Cuban cooking gave him a warmth he'd never experienced from the likes of Ashley and her ilk.

"So what do you want to do now?" Carlos asked Stephanie as he held the door open and they left the restaurant. "I've got all afternoon."

Stephanie was feeling shy again. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

Carlos put an arm around her shoulder and held her close, using his big body to shield her from the drizzle as they crossed the parking lot. "Your choice, Babe. The movies? The mall?"

Stephanie perked up. "The mall? Really? Are you sure?"

Carlos dropped a kiss on the top of her head before opening the car door for her. "The mall it is."

_TBC_


	27. The Secret's in the Telling 3

**The Secret's in the Telling 3**

Carlos walked Stephanie up to her apartment door, his left arm around her shoulders, a large shopping bag filled with smaller bags in his other hand.

She looked up at him, her eyes as clear and hot as the blue flame of a torch. "Thanks for being so patient with me at the mall." Her heart expanded, thinking about how sweet he was, following her from store to store and even going into Victoria's Secret without a smidge of embarrassment.

"De nada, Babe," Carlo murmured, looking down at her. Unable to stop himself, he pulled her in and pressed his lips to hers, tenderness giving way to heat in an instant. Their bodies molded together, and Stephanie's hands crawled up his neck into the back of his thick mane of hair, fisting there as her mouth opened to his questing tongue.

Carlos dragged himself away, gasping in air through his mouth, his eyes black holes of desire. Framing her face in his hands he said, "Gotta go, Babe." He had to get back to his room to keep an eye on Julio while Lester went to work his weeknight shift at Crabster's.

"See you, Batman," she breathed, "and thanks again for lunch." She stood on her tiptoes to brush a last, quick kiss over his lips as she took her shopping bag from him.

No sooner had she walked through the apartment door than Mary Lou was all over her.

"Where have you been?" Mary Lou's hands were on her hips and she was leaning forward, looking for all the world like Stephanie's mother interrogating her when she was late getting home from one of her infrequent high school dates. "And how come you didn't answer your phone?"

Tina popped out of the kitchen and joined Mary Lou, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"My phone didn't ring." Stephanie set down the large shopping bag and rummaged in her purse, pulling out her phone and scanning the display. "Carlos took me out to lunch, and then we stopped at the mall. Maybe there wasn't a signal there."

Mary Lou's eyes raked over her. "Your lips are all red and swollen," she accused. "And your hair's a mess."

Stephanie blushed. "It's been raining off and on all day. You know how horrible my hair gets when it's damp."

"Steph," Tina's voice was placating, "it seems like you and Carlos are getting awfully close awfully fast. What about Dickie?"

"Carlos and I are just friends. He's got a girlfriend, a gorgeous blonde. He could never be interested in me that way." But Stephanie's color darkened to crimson as she glanced at the couch and remembered what happened there earlier. And her lips still tingled from his goodbye kiss just moments ago.

"He seemed pretty into you on Saturday night," Mary Lou remarked.

"It was just because I was hurt," Stephanie replied. "He was just taking care of me. He's a really nice guy."

"Well, I think you should stay away from him." Mary Lou's supreme confidence in her own opinion irritated Stephanie. "Dickie is so perfect for you. He's going to be a lawyer and make lots of money and be able to afford a really nice house. And he's really good looking. Just think how gorgeous your kids will be."

"Whoa!" Stephanie exclaimed, almost shouting. "Who said anything about kids? I'm not sure if I want children, and I definitely don't want any for a really long time."

"Oh, bullshit, Steph," Mary Lou said. "Of course you want children. It'll be three years before you're done with college and Dickie's done with law school. By the time you actually get married you'll be twenty-two. I bet you have a baby by the time you're twenty-four. Lenny and I are going to start trying as soon as we get settled in our house and save up a little money, probably a year or two at the most."

"I'm not sure I want to even date Dickie anymore, let alone marry him," Stephanie said, aiming narrowed eyes at Mary Lou. "He was a real ass last weekend. He drank too much, stuck me with paying sixty whole dollars for his dinner and beers, and basically had no consideration for my feelings at all."

"Hell, he's a guy," muttered Tina. "What do you expect?"

"Dammit, Tina," Stephanie answered her, "I expect decent manners and someone who cares about me and not just himself."

"Well, you guys can get things all straightened out this weekend," Mary Lou said. "Dickie _is_ coming down, right? It's a long weekend, so you'll have lots of time to talk."

Stephanie looked down at the rug and scraped at a speck of lint with her toe. "Well, actually I told him not to bother, since we have to work all day Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday because of the holiday. It didn't work out so well last weekend when I had to work all the time. There's no point in him coming down to see me when he won't get to see me."

"Shit, Steph, you're going to lose him if you don't make more of an effort." Mary Lou gestured at Stephanie's phone, which she'd forgotten she was holding in the heat of their discussion. "Why don't you call him now and tell him to come down?"

"No." Stephanie dug in her heels. "He was a real jerk last weekend. I don't want to see him again for a while."

Mary Lou shook her head, her straight dark hair swinging. "You're making a big mistake. But it's your life."

"Yes, it is." Stephanie was firm.

"I'm starved," said Tina. "What do you guys want to do for dinner?"

_oOo_

Stephanie lay in bed, unable to sleep. Her busy mind was going round and round in circles, jumping from Dickie to Carlos to the argument with Mary Lou.

For the whole rest of the evening she and Mary Lou had been short with each other, missing the best-friends vibe that was always between them. Even Tina felt the uneasiness and tried to fill the awkward silences with chatter.

After ordering pizza delivery for dinner, they watched TV for a couple hours before Stephanie yawned ostentatiously and excused herself to bed. Tina came in a little while later and Stephanie pretended to be asleep so she wouldn't have to talk to her.

Now Tina was snoring softly and she still couldn't sleep.

After what seemed like hours Stephanie got up. There was no place she could go, nothing she could do. She couldn't read in bed because the light would disturb Tina. She couldn't watch TV because Mary Lou was on the pull-out, presumably sleeping the sleep of the righteous. She stood at the window for five minutes, hoping Carlos was out there, but there was no movement and she couldn't feel him.

Sighing, she went into the bathroom for a drink of water. She looked in the medicine chest, hoping for some Tylenol P.M. or something that would help her sleep, but there was nothing. She made a mental note to pick some up at the drugstore next time they went.

As she turned off the bathroom light and opened the door, being as quiet as possible, she heard the whisper from the hide-a-bed. "Psst. Who's there?"

"Me."

Mary Lou sat up. "Oh, Steph, I'm so sorry I was such a bitch before. If you don't think Dickie's right for you, it's not my place to try to force you into anything."

Stephanie walked over to the side of the bed. "It's okay, Lou. I really like Carlos a lot, but there's nothing between us. And Dickie was always really nice before last weekend. I'm sure he was just cutting loose after a rough first week of work. He'll probably be fine next time I see him."

Mary Lou lifted the sheet next to Stephanie and gestured her to lie down. "So tell me where Carlos took you for lunch."

Stephanie settled into the bed next to Mary Lou and began to talk.

_TBC_


	28. The Secret's in the Telling 4

**The Secret's in the Telling 4**

_A week later, Wednesday_

"I'll take an umbrella today, Sean," Carlos told the tanned blonde high-school boy who manned the umbrella rental at Fourth Street.

"Where do you want it, Carlos?" Sean asked him, grabbing an umbrella from the pile leaning against the boardwalk and hefting it on his shoulder.

"I've got it. Thanks." Carlos carried the sunshade across the beach, opened it, and worked it into the sand right next to his stand. He left his small cooler underneath it. With Stephanie in mind he'd brought not only his normal bottles of water, but a couple of bottles of Coke. He was looking forward to seeing her today more than he should. He hoped she'd wear the blue bikini she'd had on the first day he saw her on the beach. It set off her milk-white skin and startling blue eyes to perfection.

"Sun getting to be too much for you, Carlos?" came a feminine voice from behind him as he was crouched under the umbrella, digging through his backpack for sunscreen. Slim fingers landed on his shoulder and squeezed, then slid up underneath his hair to caress the back of his neck.

Oh, crap, Carlos thought, of all days for Ashley to decide to pay him a visit. She hadn't been around for a few days, and he'd been hoping she'd decided on a relationship with one of her hangers-on.

He reached back and removed her hand from his neck, standing and backing away from her. "Going to be hot today," he muttered, turning his back on her and making an agile ascent onto his tower.

"See you later," she called before turning and walking north on the beach toward her own station.

The first two hours of Carlos's shift seemed to crawl by. He found it hard to maintain his concentration on the beach in front of him, his mind returning again and again to the curly-haired brunette.

It was nearly time for his first break when he felt her coming. He turned and his eyes went straight to her with unerring accuracy. She was still half a block away and he thought that his instincts for her were getting stronger and stronger. He gave her a quick wave before turning back to his job, his skin itching in anticipation of her touch.

_oOo_

"I'll see you guys later," Stephanie said to Mary Lou and Tina as the two of them turned into the Crabster's parking lot just before eleven, in uniform and ready to work the lunch shift. Stephanie continued onto the boardwalk carrying her beach chair, her bag hanging from her shoulder.

She hadn't seen much of Carlos for the past week, just during her fifteen-minute breaks at the restaurant each evening. Just like before their lunch and shopping trip last week, they'd fallen into an easy silence, pressed together from hip to thigh, sipping their drinks. But there was one major difference. Each evening when Stephanie rose to go back inside, Carlos rose with her, plastered himself against her and kissed her until she was dizzy, her knees wobbling. Then with a two-hundred-watt smile and a "See you later, Babe," he opened the door for her and watched her walk inside.

She didn't tell Mary Lou and Tina she was going to see him today.

Stephanie could see Carlos as soon as she got onto the boardwalk, even though he was a block away. His dark tied-back hair, copper-penny skin and powerful physique were unmistakable sitting up on the Fourth Street lifeguard station. Stephanie couldn't tear her eyes away from him, and the memory of his mouth, his taste, had her nipples hard and her whole body vibrating.

Before she was halfway down the block he turned and stared at the boardwalk, his eyes invisible behind mirrored sunglasses. But she knew he saw her, and she gave a small finger-wave in his direction. He raised a hand in response before turning back to scan the beach.

His grin when she reached him revealed teeth that looked very white in his brown face. "Right there, Babe." He pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head and indicated the umbrella next to him. "I'm due for a break in a few minutes, so I'll be down as soon as my relief is here."

Stephanie grinned back at him, watching his eyes turn dark as she stripped off her cover-up to reveal the blue bikini with the silver rings. She could even see the almost physical effort it took him to tear his eyes away and look back to the small number of swimmers who were in the water this early. She quickly opened her beach chair and sat down, not wanting to distract his attention from the safety of the kids playing in the shallows.

Just as she began to smooth sunscreen over her arms, she became aware of a curvaceous figure standing in front of her.

"I'm sorry," the figure said, "but that umbrella is for lifeguard use only. You'll have to find somewhere else to park your fat ass."

Stephanie gasped and squinted into the brightness, making out streaky blonde hair, a hot pink bikini and cantaloupe breasts. Oh, shit, she thought, rising. Carlos's girlfriend.

She looked up at Carlos and was shocked to see anger traversing his beautiful face. But even as she gaped at his expression, it disappeared as if it never existed, replaced by the total blankness she'd seen him affect a few times before. She thought it was his way of hiding his emotions, so no one would know what he was thinking.

Stephanie hesitated, uncertain. It was a major sin in the Burg to move in on someone else's boyfriend, and she didn't want to be one of _those_. Her mind flashed to Joyce Barnhardt, the man-stealing bitch of her high school class. Joyce didn't care if a guy was going steady, even engaged. And rumor had it that Joyce did a lot more than kiss and tell. A real slut, according to Tina's Burg sources. And Tina heard everything, knew all there was to know.

Joyce had even had a go at Lenny, although he and Mary Lou went steady all through high school and got engaged graduation night. Of course Lenny had just laughed in Joyce's face and gone straight to Mary Lou, telling her everything. God forbid I should be like Joyce, thought Stephanie.

But wait just a minute. She hadn't gone after Carlos, she reminded herself. They were just friends. He was the one that kissed her, not the other way around. He was the one that wanted to take her out to lunch last week. He invited her here today, got the umbrella especially for her, and Stephanie decided she wasn't going to take any crap from that bimbo, even if she was his girlfriend.

She took a step forward ready to get in the bimbo's face when a dark arm snaked around her and spun her into a muscular embrace.

"Babe," Carlos said just before his lips crashed down on hers.

_TBC_


	29. The Secret's in the Telling 5

**The Secret's in the Telling 5**

The kiss spun on and on, and Stephanie's mind went cloudy, forgetting everything else except Carlos—the sensation of him, his smell, his taste, his smooth hardness against her skin. As her mouth opened to him, her arms went around his neck and she rose up on her toes to meet his passion. When his hands stroked down over her ass and lifted, she wrapped her legs around his waist and there was that exquisite pleasure again, the feeling of his granite length against her most intimate parts.

With a groan Carlos ripped his lips from hers and their eyes locked, his obsidian and opaque, hers midnight and glowing in the reflection of the sun off the water.

His eyes moved past Stephanie and emptied of emotion. "Ashley. I didn't notice you there."

Still wrapped around Carlos, Stephanie turned her head, her cheek against his, her foggy mind struggling to comprehend. "Oh," she said, remembering and wondering what the hell was going on and why he was kissing her right in front of the girlfriend.

"Babe, this is Ashley, the head lifeguard," Carlos said, bland and blank. "Ashley, Stephanie Plum." He turned his back on Ashley, moved into the shade of the umbrella and sat down in Stephanie's beach chair with Stephanie on his lap straddling him. He cuddled her to his chest, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

From the corner of her eye Stephanie saw Ashley turn and flounce away, sand squirting up from her heels with each step. She leaned her head back and willed Carlos to open his eyes, pushing on his shoulders to create some space between them. "What the hell was that?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, Babe." Carlos's expression was contrite and his eyes opened to reveal melted chocolate. "I needed to get rid of Ashley. She's been a real pain in the ass."

"You mean you just used me to dump your girlfriend?" Stephanie asked, aghast.

"Girlfriend?" Carlos barked out a laugh. "You thought Ashley was my girlfriend?"

"I saw you together on the beach the first day we were here. Just the way she touched you, hung all over you, yeah, it sure looked like you were together."

"I just met her that day, the same day I met you. She's never been anything to me except an annoyance." Carlos thought back to the scene in the locker room, now more than ever thankful he'd found the strength to tear himself away from Ashley. Maybe now that she thought he was with Stephanie she'd leave him alone.

Stephanie rolled herself back and swung a leg around to get her feet underneath her so she could arise from Carlos's lap. She wasn't sure whether to be angry or pleased that he'd kissed her that way to get rid of an unwanted bimbo. On the one hand he'd used her and she should be pissed at him. On the other hand, he'd been kissing her every night at the restaurant, and that had nothing to do with Ashley.

Carlos watched Stephanie's expressive face, understanding her dilemma. "Babe," he said, "I said I'm sorry. And I didn't do anything I don't want to do every time I see you."

Stephanie's electric blue eyes grabbed hold of his mahogany ones and read the sincerity there. "Okay," she said, and reached for her beach bag. "Now, I need some sunscreen on my back."

_oOo_

Carlos's second break was from one-thirty to two, and he and Stephanie walked up on the boardwalk hand in hand to get some lunch.

"Are you doing anything tonight, Babe?" Carlos asked as they sat down at an empty table in the small food court with their platters of Chinese.

"Mmmm." Stephanie moaned at the first bite of moo shu pork. Carlos couldn't tear his eyes away from her lips as her tongue peeped out to lick off a dab of plum sauce. He couldn't help himself. He reached over and curved his fingers under her chin so he could stroke the wetness from her lips with his thumb. He was hard as a rock and wondered what the hell he was going to do about this obsession with Stephanie Plum.

Stephanie took hold of his hand and brought his fingers to her lips for a light kiss before releasing them. "Since none of us have to work the dinner shift tonight, we're going up on the boards, maybe to Jenkinson's. Lenny's coming down right after work to spend the night, so there'll be four of us to go on rides."

Carlos nodded. It was Julio's night off, so maybe he'd want to go up on the boardwalk. Julio was so much better since the incident with Stephanie. And every time he worked at the restaurant he had a story about her on the way home, his affection obvious. Apparently Carlos wasn't the only one who found Stephanie irresistible.

As they walked back onto the sand at two o'clock, Stephanie said, "I'm going to need to leave in a while to meet Mary Lou and Tina. Their shift is over at three. So thanks for getting the umbrella for me to use."

"De nada, Babe." Carlos hesitated, then went on, "I'll get an umbrella every Wednesday, so you can just come here and use it any time you want."

By this time they'd reached the lifeguard stand. Carlos took Stephanie by the shoulders, turning her to face him. "I'm glad you came today." His mouth covered hers, the kiss almost unbearably tender.

"Me, too," she answered, her hands cupping his face. He tucked a curl behind her ear, feathered a quick kiss across her brow and climbed back up his tower, beautifully defined muscles rippling as he moved.

Stephanie sighed and moved back into the shade of the umbrella.

_oOo_

"So how was the beach?" Mary Lou asked as she, Stephanie and Tina started back toward their apartment. "It was really hot. Did you go in the water?"

"Just for a minute. It's still pretty chilly."

"Did you have lunch?"

"Yeah, Chinese."

"Down at the Fifth Street food court?"

Stephanie suddenly realized her mistake. Crap, she thought, why did I even mention Chinese? But she was already blushing and she knew Mary Lou would get the truth out of her. "Yeah," she admitted.

Mary Lou's hazel eyes were piercing. "Did you see Carlos?"

"Yeah." Stephanie gave in and fessed up. "I had lunch with him."

"And…" Mary Lou made a rolling motion with her hand.

"He was working."

"And…" That gesture again. God, this girl is good, Stephanie thought. She's going to be the best Burg mom ever.

"And he got a beach umbrella set up beside his stand so I could have some shade. He had a couple of breaks and we talked and ate lunch, and that was it."

"Steph—" Mary Lou began, but Stephanie cut her off.

"Lou, he's a really nice guy, and he's the hottest freaking thing on the beach. So if I want to hang out with him I will. You're not my mom, so stop acting like her."

Mary Lou looked chastened. "Sorry, Steph, but you know I'm just trying to look out for you like a best friend should."

"I know, Lou. Thanks. Now let's go home and get showered and get you all prettied up for Lenny."

Mary Lou grinned, and they hurried home.

_TBC_


	30. The Secret's in the Telling 6

**The Secret's in the Telling 6**

_That evening_

Stephanie's pulse grew thick and heavy, and goosebumps spangled her arms in spite of the heat as she, Tina, Mary Lou and Lenny passed Crabster's and walked up the ramp to the boardwalk at Third Street. She knew without a doubt what, or rather who, would be waiting when they reached the top.

"Hey-ya, Carlos, how's the lifeguarding business?" Lenny reached out a hand to shake and then turned to Julio. "How's it hanging, little bro?"

"How ya doin', Lenny?" Carlos responded.

"Well, you know, plumbers do it with a plumber's friend." Lenny's laughter rang out across the boardwalk and he squeezed a blushing Mary Lou against his side and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"Ladies," Carlos said, inclining his head to Mary Lou and Tina, and then hooked an arm around Stephanie's neck. "Babe," he breathed into her ear, brushing his lips over her cheek.

"Batman," she whispered, returning the cheek kiss, her open palms against his chest.

"We're heading down to Jenkinson's for rides and eats. Wanna tag along?" Lenny asked.

"Sure," said Julio, and Carlos gave a small nod of acquiescence. As they walked down the boardwalk, Carlos was amused to see Julio gravitate straight to Stephanie, walking next to her, his hand hovering at the small of her back, not quite touching. Carlos took his place at her other side, swinging an arm around her shoulders and drawing her against him, her long legs matching his steps in spite of their height difference, their stride in perfect rhythm.

After a quick meal of burgers and fries and grilled chicken sandwiches at the Boardwalk Bar and Grill, Lenny took charge.

"Okay," he said, "let's pool our cash and get a big book of tickets. More for our money that way." Tickets in hand, Lenny asked, "Where first?"

"Moby Dick," Tina exclaimed, pointing and walking at the same time, pulling Stephanie along by the arm.

Dusk fell, streaking the sky with pink, and the lights of the amusement park took over, glowing in brilliant jeweled hues. The lines for the rides weren't long since it was a weeknight and school wasn't yet out for the summer, so they rode them all, some more than once.

Carlos made sure he was paired with Stephanie each time the opportunity presented, edging Julio away in a subtle manner, hoping it wasn't too obvious. When they reached the Flitzer, the big roller coaster, Stephanie sat in front of him, between his legs in their individual car, their bodies locked together, her back to his front, his arms holding her tight. Stephanie leaned back into him, her arms and hands wrapped over his where they encircled her, whooping and squealing as they whooshed down and around.

"Omigod, I felt like I was flying," Stephanie told him as the ride ended, her eyes sparkling and cheeks pink. "I always wanted to fly, ever since I was a little girl."

At Carlos's raised eyebrow she went on to tell him how at the age of eight she thought she was a superhero, tied a pillowcase around her neck as a cape and jumped off the garage roof. "I really thought I could fly," she confided, "and I did for a second. Until I hit the ground and broke my wrist."

"Babe," Carlos responded with that smile that made her go all soft deep down in her belly. "Wanna go again?"

She grinned at him. "Absolutely."

At ten Lester joined them, freshly showered and changed after working his shift. "Have you been to the Fun House yet?" he asked. "I hear it's the shit."

As the group lined up to enter, Carlos hesitated, holding Stephanie back and allowing everyone else to go first. And as soon as they got inside, he stepped into a dark, secluded corner, pulling her with him.

The moment they were out of sight of the others his mouth was on her, kissing her lips, sucking gently on her shoulder, licking her throat, nipping her earlobe. Stephanie rubbed herself against him shamelessly. Her panties were soaked from the stimulation and she craved his touch with an ardor she didn't realize she possessed.

Groaning, Carlos lifted her to him so she could lock her legs around his waist, just like on the beach, her center tight against his erection. He turned and pressed her into the corner, grinding against her, their open mouths greedy and taking.

Supporting her with one hand he covered her breast with the other, his thumb stroking across a nipple that was already hard with need. At his touch, Stephanie cried out into his mouth, her whole body trembling and pulsing with an orgasm that shook her to the core. It took all Carlos's considerable self-control not to come along with her. Only the thought of the others waiting outside for them kept him from going over the edge.

He held her close, kissing her mouth, her cheek, her throat, as she lay limp in his arms. After several minutes she came back.

"Batman," she murmured.

"You're so beautiful, Babe." His voice was low and filled with some emotion she couldn't identify.

Her awareness was returning, and she remembered where they were. "We need to go," she said, slipping her legs down his sides until she was standing, her knees still shaking, his arms helping support her weight. "They'll be wondering what happened to us."

She stepped out from the corner and looked at the maze of neon lights that comprised the Fun House. "Do you know how to get out of here?"

"The best way out is always through." Carlos took her hand and led her unerringly through the maze to the exit.

They found the others waiting outside, and Stephanie's attention went immediately to Mary Lou, anticipating the disapproval. But her friend's face was flushed, her lips were swollen, and her eyes were a little glazed. Stephanie's own lips still tingled and Carlos maintained an arm around her to keep her upright. Tina was leaning against Lester, her mouth open, panting a little. Her olive complexion helped hide a blush.

The three girls looked at each other with dazed smiles.

As they moved on to the Super Himalaya, Lester appropriated Tina to ride with him, leaving Julio the odd man out, but Stephanie took pity on him and drew him into her orbit along with Carlos. With Stephanie's slenderness and Julio's still-skinny frame, they had no problem fitting in a single seat. Later when they squeezed into one seat on the Tornado, the smaller of the two roller coasters, Stephanie leaned into the curve of Carlos's arm while holding Julio's hand in both of hers. She sighed in pleasure at the comfort of being snug between the two, so alike with their mocha skin, dark, straight hair, and Cuban good looks.

They called it a night at midnight, since Lenny had to get an early start to make it work in the morning. They all walked together to the big white house on Green Street and said good night on the porch. Lester gave Stephanie and Mary Lou each a buss on the cheek before drawing Tina into a steamy lip-lock. Stephanie turned away, embarrassed to watch, and ended up against Julio's chest, his ropy arms around her.

"Night, Steph," he whispered as he kissed her cheek. She returned the kiss before he passed her on to Carlos with a heavy sigh.

Carlos drew her in, and she turned her head just enough so his kiss landed on the edge of her mouth instead of covering her lips. As much as she wanted to kiss him, she was still wary of any type of public display of affection in front of her friends.

"Babe," he rumbled, kissing her ear and sliding his mouth across her cheek toward hers.

"Night, Batman," she breathed, pulling away after just a brief brush of their lips.

_TBC_


	31. The Secret's in the Telling 7

_Warning: Smut, sort of. Still dressed, though.  
_

**The Secret's in the Telling 7**

It was hot and humid in the bedroom, in spite of the fan in the window. Mary Lou and Lenny had bought a window air conditioner for the living room, planning on moving it at summer's end to the row house in the Burg they'd made an offer on. So the living room was cool, but with the door closed the bedroom was stifling.

Stephanie looked over at Tina, visible in the streetlight glow from the ceiling. The heat didn't seem to be bothering her a bit. She was sound asleep on her back, her breath whickering in and out, arms and legs splayed out, top sheet crumpled at the foot of the bed.

Stephanie got up and went to the door, carefully turning the knob so as not to make a sound, thinking they could steal some of the air-conditioned coolness from the living room. But as soon as the door opened, she could hear Mary Lou and Lenny, all panting breath and squeaking springs. She had to grab hold of herself to stop from slamming the door on the sounds, to close it as silently as she'd opened it.

She looked at the window again. Making a decision, she pulled a pair of white boxers over her panties, skimmed her feet into her sneakers and moved the fan to the nightstand between her bed and Tina's. With deliberate caution she raised the screen, surprised at the smooth silence as it slipped up to the top of the window.

Perfect, she thought as she swung a leg over the sill.

The east-facing porch roof was in shade all afternoon and evening, so the shingles were cool, and she leaned back against the siding next to the window. A faint breeze edged around the corner of the house and touched her bare arms and legs, evaporating the sweat and bringing goosebumps to the cooling skin.

Her nipples tingled and hardened, and she realized it wasn't the breeze that was making her shiver. A shadow trod the street, shortening and lengthening again as a dark-clad figure on the sidewalk passed under a streetlight. Stephanie waited in anticipation.

_oOo_

Carlos couldn't sleep. All he could think about was Stephanie, the feel of her against him. He'd tried a cold shower when they got back from the boardwalk, but it did nothing to ease his own board-like state. After a couple of minutes he turned the water to warm and squeezed a dollop of someone's shower gel onto his hand, taking care of his problem with practiced efficiency.

But he was hard again, lying on the couch doing his best to put Stephanie out of his mind. Both Lester and Julio exhibited the deep, even breathing that told him they were asleep.

Even though he knew he was no good for Stephanie, he'd given up trying to convince himself to stay away. All he could do was hope that nobody he knew from the DeCalva family organization spotted him on the beach. Most of them went to the family compound in Deal, so he wasn't likely to run into any of them here.

When he discovered Julio's addiction he'd taken off without a word to the lieutenant in charge of his sector, just disappearing. He hid out with Julio and Lester in a friend's apartment for a couple of weeks and skipped his last classes so nobody from the crime family could find him. He'd slipped onto campus just long enough to take his finals and moved to Point Pleasant Beach immediately after. Even though he was at a low level, not important to the success or the profitability of the organization, once you belonged to the DeCalvas, you stayed or died. There was no escape.

It made his balls shrivel to think of what they'd do to him if they found him now.

He rose, dressing in shorts and a t-shirt and lacing up his running shoes. Even though he ran every single morning the weather allowed, maybe a short run was what he needed to calm him enough to sleep.

Carlos was on the sidewalk, holding the newel post of the porch to balance himself while he stretched his hamstrings when the tremor ripped through him. Instead of running, he walked as if in a dream, covering the four blocks to Green Street in moments.

And saw her.

From a block away the cloud of dark hair was a disembodied silhouette against the white siding of the big house, the creamy skin and white top blending right in, invisible. His breath caught in his throat as he realized Stephanie was wearing the same lacy camisole as the first night they'd met outside. Was it just a couple weeks ago? He'd fantasized about that lace over and over again on his lonely couch.

He climbed up the sturdy trellis at the corner of the house and took a seat beside Stephanie, studying her face in the illumination from the nearby streetlight. She took his breath away.

He slipped one arm under her knees and put the other around her waist, turning her sideways and lifting her onto his lap. "I came back for my good-night kiss," he whispered in her ear just before his lips descended to hers.

_oOo_

As Carlos's lips and hands moved across her, Stephanie drifted away on a sea of sensation. Far away in the recesses of her mind she heard someone moaning, and she came back to self-awareness with a jerk when she realized it was her.

"Carlos," she hissed into his ear. "Stop. We're going to wake up the whole neighborhood."

Thanks goodness the fan inside the bedroom was fairly noisy, she thought, and Tina was a heavy sleeper.

"We can't stay here," she continued in a whisper.

"Will you come down and sit on the porch for a while?" Carlos whispered back.

At Stephanie's nod, he stood, lifting her with him and setting her on her feet. The slope of the porch roof wasn't steep, and Carlos kept an arm around her as they moved to the corner.

"Can you climb down?" he asked.

She nodded, and he stepped onto the wooden latticework, holding on with one hand and reaching to help her cling to the trellis in front of him with the other. They climbed down like that, one step at a time, bodies touching, his arm around her. When they reached the ground they stood tight together for a moment, Stephanie rotating her backside against the hardness of his erection, feeling the rumbling groan deep in his chest against her back.

She took hold of his hands where they held her waist and guided them up to her breasts, craving his touch and gasping as his fingers caressed her rock-hard nipples through the thin lace. Fearful that she'd cry out, she swiveled to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her head up, lips parted for his kiss.

Tangled together, Carlos lifted her against him and moved around and onto the front porch, sitting down on a wicker settee with Stephanie in his lap. He couldn't stop himself from touching her, a hand going back to her breast. She gasped against his mouth, sucking in his breath, and arched her back, offering him more.

When his hand slid down into the front of her shorts she cried out, the sound swallowed into his throat as his groan met it. Just the touch of his fingers pushed her over the edge, and she jerked against his hand as the wave swept over her.

When one long finger slid into her wetness, she came again, the contractions hurling through her, making her thrash in his arms.

After long minutes she calmed and he slipped his finger out, bringing it up to where their mouths were still joined, his tongue snaking out to taste.

"Oh, God," Stephanie moaned, tasting herself on his finger.

After a moment her hand dropped down to where his length strained at the zipper of his shorts.

"You didn't…?" she trailed off, not knowing how to say it. "Did you?"

"It's okay, Babe." He nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck. "You came for both of us."

"No," she said, bringing her other hand down to join the first in unbuttoning and unzipping him. "You should… come… too."

She sucked in a breath as his pants opened and he sprang free. "Omigod," she said, stroking his hardness with her fingers, dragging a stifled choking sound from Carlos. "It's so big."

After a moment of exploration she admitted, "Umm, I'm not sure exactly what to do, so you might have to help me a little."

He used a finger to tip her chin up so his eyes could catch hers, hard to read in the darkness. "Are you a virgin, Babe?"

"No," she was quick to respond, her lashes fluttering as she lowered her eyes. Then she lifted them to his gaze again. "No, but it was just once, and it wasn't… well, it was really quick, and it hurt, and then it was over and he was gone."

The hurt in her voice stabbed at his heart. "If we can ever find a place to go, I'm going to make love to you so you know how it _should_ be," he vowed.

"Is that a promise, Batman?"

"It's a promise, Babe." He wrapped his hand over the back of hers and placed it on his length.

_TBC_


	32. The Secret's in the Telling 8

**The Secret's in the Telling 8**

_Five weeks later_

"Carlos, can I see you for a minute?" Mike Henderson, the Director of Beach Safety, was waiting as Carlos's relief took over for his break.

It was Monday, the last day of June, and as always Carlos had been thinking about Stephanie. He thought about almost nothing else, the intimacy they'd developed over the past month doing nothing to ease his obsession with her.

She was working the lunch shift today with Mary Lou, and after that Lenny was coming to take Mary Lou back to Trenton for her day off tomorrow. That meant the sofa bed at Stephanie's apartment would be unoccupied tonight.

Carlos hoped to be occupying it with Stephanie.

Over the past month, late-night trysts on the front porch had brought them as close as two people could be, physically and emotionally. They'd talked about everything, the darkness making it easier to share their history, their hopes and dreams for the future. Stephanie's easy acceptance of his dark past loosened a tightness in his chest that Carlos didn't realize was there and opened his heart to the little white girl from Trenton.

And they'd explored each other's bodies in the midnight hours, learning and teaching so that with just a graze of fingers, a brush of lips, each could bring the other to shuddering ecstasy. Just one thing remained, that ultimate act of closeness, and Carlos wanted it to be tonight.

Forcing Stephanie from his mind Carlos nodded to his boss and fell into step with him, moving toward the boardwalk. "Sure, Mike. What's up?"

"This weekend is the annual Point Pleasant Beach Titanium Man competition, and the borough always sponsors an entrant. I think you're our best shot. Would you be willing to do it?"

Carlos lifted an eyebrow. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's our version of the Iron Man. Three events over three days. Swimming on Friday, weight lifting on Saturday, and a 10K run on Sunday."

Carlos shrugged. "Why me?"

Mike grinned at him. "For one thing, you scored the highest on the physical part of the lifeguard qualification test that I've ever seen. Plus you run every morning. Your route takes you right past my house, so I know how hard you work at it. And I've seen you at the high school weight room, too." Mike's expression sobered. "The borough hasn't sponsored a winner in the ten years we've been doing this, and I think you're our best shot ever. Will you do it?"

"I'm scheduled to work all weekend," Carlos reminded him.

"If you'll do it, I'll give you the whole weekend off, with pay, including double time for the holiday Friday." Mike knew that was an almost irresistible carrot. Friday was the Fourth of July and the long weekend would be the busiest of the year for the beach. The lifeguards would be jumpy and stressed trying to watch all the bobbing heads in the water, and numerous rescues were almost guaranteed.

Carlos considered. He'd been working six days a week for a month and a half plus spending almost every evening at the restaurant watching Julio and a couple hours every night with Stephanie. He could use the free mornings to catch up on his sleep.

"Okay," he said, "I'll do it. Just get me the info."

_oOo_

"Boy, am I tired," Stephanie said to Mary Lou as they trudged back to Green Street when their lunch shift finished at three. "I think I'm going to take a nap."

Mary Lou's face gleamed with curiosity as she looked at the dark circles under her friend's eyes. After four hours hefting heavy trays in the heat at Crabster's, the concealer Stephanie had used was pretty much all melted off. "You really do look tired. I don't understand it. You go to bed when Tina and I do, and you always sleep until the last possible minute before work. Do you think you've got mono or something?"

Stephanie shook her head. "No, I'm not sick." She tried not to think about the wee hours on the front porch with Carlos. She still smarted from the disapproval Mary Lou showed whenever she mentioned him, and she wanted to keep their budding relationship to herself as long as possible. Once Mary Lou and Tina knew, the whole Burg would know, and it made her stomach roll to imagine her mother's reaction.

"Well, I've known you for our whole lives," Mary Lou said, "and I've never seen you look this tired for this long."

"It's nothing," Stephanie said. "I've just been waking up at night and having trouble getting back to sleep."

Mary Lou wrinkled her brow in concern. "Is something bothering you?"

"No, there's nothing wrong," Stephanie was quick to reassure her. "I think there must be a noise, maybe a truck or something that wakes me up. And once I'm awake it takes me a while to get back to sleep." She felt guilty for lying to Mary Lou, but not enough to tell her what was really going on.

Mary Lou abruptly changed the subject. "So has Dickie called?"

"No," Stephanie replied. "I haven't talked to him since before Memorial Day. I guess he's been busy with his job, and I'm always working on the weekends. He's probably given up on me."

"Oh, Steph, I really hope not. He seems so perfect." Mary Lou considered for a moment, her head cocked, finger on her lips. "Why don't you give him a call? Friday's a holiday, so maybe he'll come down for the weekend."

Stephanie gave a vehement shake of her head. "No way. I have to work all weekend anyway, and remember when he came down before? He drank too much and was rude and really inconsiderate. I hope he _has_ found someone else. I don't think he's right for me."

Mary Lou shook her head in resignation, her expression sad.

Now it was Stephanie's turn to change the subject. "So what time is Lenny picking you up?"

"Change of plans," Mary Lou informed her. "He found out he has to be out of his apartment today, so he took the day off to move his stuff into his parents' garage. He'll be down by dinner time, and we're going to stay here. Do you want to go out with us tonight?"

"Maybe." Stephanie tried to hide her disappointment. She so wanted to spend the night with Carlos, and she thought this would be their chance. "Let's see what Tina wants to do."

_oOo_

Stephanie was sitting in their usual spot on the wicker settee on the front porch when Carlos came into the yard at one a.m. He felt her presence and veered from his path toward the front door to join her.

"Babe," he murmured.

"Batman," she responded.

He picked her up and slid underneath her, settling her in his lap as his lips found hers. After a long, erotic greeting consisting of dueling tongues and groping hands he rasped out, "How come you're out here? I thought the couch was free tonight."

Stephanie sighed and placed her hands on his cheeks, her full lips gently meeting his one more time. "Mary Lou and Lenny decided to stay here tonight. Lenny had to be out of his apartment today, and they don't settle on their house for another two weeks, so he moved back with his parents until then. So this is the only place they can stay together until they get the house."

"Shit." Carlos's curse was almost a groan.

Stephanie couldn't help but giggle. "Yeah," she agreed, "shit."

"Well, I guess we'll have to make do out here," Carlos said as his plundering mouth began its nightly traverse of her satiny-soft skin.

Stephanie sucked in oxygen at his touch and bowed her back, offering herself to him and clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle the screams of pleasure.

_TBC_


	33. The Secret's in the Telling 9

**The Secret's in the Telling 9**

_Four days later_

Stephanie hurried up the boardwalk to the public pier at Front Street. She didn't want to miss out on the beginning of the Titanium Man competition. She'd asked Uncle Tommy if she could take her dinner break extra early today and tomorrow, at two, and he'd been agreeable. He was a great guy to work for.

"Going to cheer for Carlos?" asked Tina with a smirk as Stephanie told her she was leaving. Julio and Lester had spilled the news about Titanium Man last night during their shift, and they were both going to be there to watch and cheer. They were certain Carlos was going to win.

"Of course," Stephanie told her, keeping her voice nonchalant, telling herself it would be the same if it were Lester or Julio. But the pink of her cheeks betrayed her excitement.

"You'd better scoot, then, if you're going to get there in time." Mary Lou gestured her off with a smile. Mary Lou had been really nice since their conversation on Monday. She told Stephanie she'd made up her mind to stay out of it, that Carlos was the best looking guy she'd ever seen, and if Stephanie wanted to see him it was her decision. She just hoped he wouldn't hurt Stephanie the way Joseph Morelli had, taking advantage of her and then going off blithely to join the Navy, never even bothering to check and make sure Stephanie wasn't pregnant. Mary Lou had told her numerous times that she thought it was appalling that Joe hadn't used a condom, and the only excuse she could think of was that maybe he believed that old wives' tale that a girl couldn't get pregnant the first time. Mary Lou knew better, and she made sure Lenny always used a condom until she went on the pill last year after getting engaged.

As Stephanie rushed into the big pavilion on the pier, she heard the public address system announcing the Titanium Man competitors. "Representing the downtown merchants association, sales manager at Watson Buick-Pontiac, Danny the Dominator Watson."

Stephanie leaned against a pillar near the door looking over the hundreds of heads seated on benches to see a big guy taking the stage next to the three already there. The Dominator looked like a college football player gone slightly to seed, with a beer belly hanging below muscular arms and shoulders. The other three on the stage were all shapes and sizes, from compact and muscular to lean and lanky. All were bare-chested, clad in swim trunks in preparation for the distance swim about to take place.

After the applause died down the announcer continued, "Representing the Borough of Point Pleasant Beach, a lifeguard keeping our beaches safe for the summer, Carlos the Man Manoso."

Stephanie whooped and clapped, even as a feminine murmur rippled through the crowd at the sight of Carlos climbing up onto the platform. She was reminded again of the first time she saw him on the beach, that outrageous fallen-angel beauty. But now she knew the touch of those full, firm lips on hers, those eyes with their thick black lashes going dark with desire as he looked at her, the silky fall of almost-black hair sliding between her fingers. She went damp at the thought of his hands on her, his mouth, the feel of him between her legs.

The announcer's voice pulled her thoughts back to the competitors. "And last, but not least, representing the United States Army, Master Sergeant in the 4th Ranger Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment, Tank the Tank Sherman." Stephanie's mouth dropped open and she goggled at the sheer size of the man who took his place beside Carlos. He was half a head taller than Carlos, probably six-six, and two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. His skin gleamed blue-black and his shaved head shone under the overhead spotlights. As perfect and beautiful as Carlos was, he looked downright small and pale next to the enormous black man.

"And now," the announcer concluded, "please make way for the contestants to proceed to the beach for the first event, the swimming competition."

As the six entrants walked down the center aisle toward the exit, their supporters surrounded them. Stephanie spotted Julio and Lester moving in from the side to join Carlos, and then…

"Oh, no, you didn't just do that, you bitch," Stephanie hissed under her breath as Ashley, the blonde bimbo lifeguard slithered in between Julio and Carlos, taking Carlos's arm in a proprietary manner.

Stephanie waited by the exit and watched as Carlos pried her fingers off his forearm and pulled away from her. He looked up and a full smile lit up his face when he met her eyes. Leaving Ashley behind with Lester and Julio, he strode directly to Stephanie and wrapped her up in his arms.

"Babe," he breathed into her ear, his lips skimming across her cheek to land on hers.

"Batman," she murmured, dazed from the taste of him, his soap-with-a-hint-of-spice scent filling her nostrils.

"Thanks for coming to cheer for me," he said, turning and hooking his arm around her neck. They walked together out onto the boardwalk, and Lester and Julio caught up to flank them, leaving Ashley to bring up the rear.

"I couldn't miss the opportunity to watch the dark knight compete in the biggest event of the summer." Stephanie's grin was wicked. "You're my champion, Batman, and I expect you to kick butt."

As they stepped down onto the sand, Carlos said, "Every champion needs a lovely lady to cheer him on. Will you give me your token, fair lady?"

Stephanie giggled and pulled off the blue scrunchie that was holding her ponytail, handing it to him. He slipped it over his wrist and gave her another brilliant smile and a feather-light brush of his lips as he moved off to join the other competitors at the edge of the water.

The swim was marked with buoys, each with a boat containing a couple of lifeguards attached to it, both for observation purposes and in case of emergencies.

The announcer, who Stephanie was surprised to see was a small, balding man, brought an electronic bullhorn to his mouth and his big voice boomed out to introduce a member of the Borough Council, who held a starter's pistol. "Good luck to all our contestants, and now let this year's Titanium Man Contest begin. Ready… Set…"

At the loud "pop" of the pistol the six men raced into the water, running as far as they could and then diving and starting to swim. Stephanie couldn't take her eyes off the muscular mocha-latte arms as they whipped through the water.

"How far are they swimming?" she asked Lester and Julio, standing on each side of her.

"Fifteen hundred meters," Lester said. "Just under a mile."

"How long should that take them to swim?"

"A half hour, maybe even longer for some of them," Lester told her. "The top level competitive swimmers can do it in about twenty minutes, but even though Carlos is in great shape and swims every day, he's never done any long distance training."

The minutes crawled by, and the swimmers were so far away that Stephanie could no longer tell for sure which one was Carlos, except that she was pretty sure he was the one in the lead. The others were strung out behind, one by one.

The leader rounded the furthest buoy, and the announcer called out the times as each swimmer passed. "Leading at the halfway point, Carlos the Man Manoso, ten minutes twenty-seven seconds… Second place, Tank the Tank Sherman, eleven minutes fourteen seconds."

"Carlos is setting a hell of a pace," Julio said. "I hope he doesn't run out of gas before he finishes."

Stephanie kept her eyes glued to the leader, repeating over and over under her breath, come on Carlos, come on Carlos. As the swimmers came back toward the finish line, she could again make out the smooth caramel-colored arms slicing through the water. The next swimmer was huge and had to be the army guy they called Tank. But he wasn't even close.

As Carlos crossed the finish line the crowd cheered. With a few more strokes he was on his feet walking out of the water, water sluicing off his shoulders and dripping down the ridges and valleys of his chest and abs. Stephanie raced across the sand to meet him at the water's edge, leaping into his arms and wrapping herself around him.

_TBC_


	34. The Secret's in the Telling 10

**The Secret's in the Telling 10**

Stephanie checked her watch as she and Carlos stood together on the beach, his arm snug around her shoulders. "Damn," she said. "I've got to get back to the restaurant."

"We'll walk you, Babe," Carlos said. The front of Stephanie's shirt was still damp from throwing herself at him as he came out of the water, and she pulled it away from her body by the hem and flapped it a little to help it dry.

"You don't have to do that, Batman," she told him. "You should stay here a while and enjoy all the attention." The crowd had flocked around the event winner, and there was a huge round of cheering when the announcer said Carlos set a new record for the Titanium Man 1500 meter swim, twenty-two minutes ten seconds. Dribs and drabs of people were still coming over, shaking his hand and congratulating him.

"Too much attention," Carlos said. "Let's get out of here."

He guided her over to where Julio and Lester were talking with Tank, the Army Ranger. They'd latched onto him as soon as he came out of the water, inundating him with questions about basic training and the best ways to get accepted to Ranger school.

The moment Tank saw them approaching he reached for Carlos's hand, pumping it with enthusiasm and congratulating him on his win. "Hell of a swim, Carlos," he rumbled in a basso profundo.

"Pretty fast yourself for a big guy," Carlos answered.

"Wait till you see me run." Tank's grin revealed acres of teeth, gleaming white in the bright sunshine. The man was a giant, Stephanie thought as his hand swallowed hers up after Lester's introduction.

"Tank's on leave for the week, staying with some cousins," Lester told them. He turned back to Tank. "Any chance of us getting together sometime? We'd really like to hear more about the Ranger training."

"My cousins are busy tonight, so I'm free all evening," Tank rumbled.

Lester's face fell. "Julio and I have to work five to ten."

"Carlos?" Tank asked. "Dinner, my treat? We can meet up with these guys later when they're done working."

Carlos hesitated, glancing down at Stephanie, then nodded. "Sure. Sounds good."

"When and where?"

"Crabster's. Third Street just off the boardwalk. Eight?"

Tank gave a nod. "See you there."

_oOo_

Stephanie hustled through the kitchen into the service area, still reeling from Carlos's good-bye kiss and from the fact that he kissed her in front of Lester and Julio. Of course after the way she leaped on him at the beach, not even thinking about the hundreds of people watching…

"I'm back," she puffed. "Who's going next?"

Tina and Mary Lou stared and then both spoke at once.

"Your hair—" said Mary Lou.

"Were you running?" asked Tina.

Stephanie's hands flew to her head. "Omigod!" she shrieked and raced for the bathroom, detouring to her locker in the kitchen. Her hair, freed from its ever-present ponytail when she gave her scrunchie to Carlos, was a gigantic 'fro, frizzy curls that doubled the size of her head.

Five minutes later, her curls damp, moussed and pulled back in a ponytail again, Stephanie reversed her route.

"Okay, what do I need to cover?"

A few minutes later she was taking a lunch order from a group of twenty-somethings when her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. By the time she was finished taking the order, the phone's chime indicated a voicemail. She ducked into the back to put the order in and yanked out the phone to check the missed call. Her mother. Oh well, Stephanie thought, I'll call her back on my break later.

Ten minutes later the phone vibrated again, followed by the same chime. By the time Tina returned from her lunch break there were eight missed calls, all from her mother, and eight voicemails.

"Lou, my mom's been calling nonstop," Stephanie said to her friend. "I'm afraid something's happened to Dad or Val or my grandparents. Will you cover for a minute while I see what she wants?"

At Mary Lou's nod Stephanie zipped out the side door, pressing speed dial as she went.

"Mom, it's Stephanie. What's wrong?"

"Stephanie Michelle Plum, how could you?!" her mother wailed.

Stephanie pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it in confusion.

"Mom? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Elaine Minardi's daughter and her family are at Point Pleasant for the weekend." Oh, crap, thought Stephanie as her mother's voice got louder and louder, higher and higher pitched until she was shrieking. "How could you, Stephanie? How could you be throwing yourself all over some dangerous black hoodlum, kissing him on the beach? You were raised better than that."

Stephanie pulled the phone away from her ear and slumped down onto the bench. Even holding the phone all the way down on her lap she could still hear the stridency, and even understand a lot of the words.

"…and your father and I will drive down to get you as soon as he gets home from work."

Stephanie jerked out of her self-hypnosis and brought the phone back to her ear with a resounding, "No!"

The shout silenced her mother dead. Stephanie repeated in a lower voice through clenched teeth, "No. You're not coming down here to get me." She made a herculean effort to relax her jaw. "I'm over eighteen, an adult, and you can't make me come home. I'm staying here."

Stephanie had never in her life shouted at her mother like that before, and she knew she had to talk fast before the stunned silence ended. "Mom, I'm in the middle of work. My shift won't be over until almost eleven tonight. It wasn't what it looked like. He's a friend, and he just won a big race. I'll call you in the morning and explain everything."

"Stephanie," her mother began.

"Gotta go, Mom. People waiting for their dinner. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye." She quickly pressed the end button and then turned off the phone altogether as she went back inside.

An hour later when Mary Lou came back from her lunch break her eyes sidled away from Stephanie's.

"Lou, what is it?" Stephanie grabbed her arm as Mary Lou tried to slip past and retreat from the service area. But Stephanie held firm.

"Nothing, Steph," Mary Lou said, still refusing to meet her eyes.

"Did you get a phone call, too?"

Mary Lou inflated her cheeks and puffed out a gust of air. "Yeah, my mom called. It's all over the Burg that you were throwing yourself at a black gang member on the beach today." She finally met Stephanie's eyes. "Carlos?"

Now it was Stephanie's turn to lower her gaze. "Yeah," she admitted, blushing. "When he won the swimming race I guess I got a little carried away."

"I told my mom about him winning the race and that he's a good friend of all of ours. She'll see what she can do to counteract the Burgvine."

"Thanks, Lou, and tell your mom thanks, too."

_oOo_

Stephanie went outside for her last fifteen-minute break at a couple minutes before eight. The moment she stepped out the door she was behind the building, backed up against the cinderblock wall, held there by a warm, granite body. Her mind went numb, her body nuclear when a firm mouth devoured hers. She felt like she was going to explode as she wrapped her legs around Carlos's waist, feeling his desire rigid on her core, thrusting her against the rough wall.

"Batman," she wheezed when their lips broke apart, both gasping for air. "Aren't you supposed to have dinner with Tank? I'm saving you the back corner table in my section." She looked up into the deep caverns of his eyes. "If you want it, that is."

"I want it, Babe." Carlos had to clear his throat. "I want _you._"

He carried her back around the corner to the side of the building and sat down on the bench, swinging her sideways on his lap.

"Shouldn't you go meet Tank?" Stephanie asked after a minute.

"He'll wait. You need to rest, and I need to hold you." Carlos swished his mouth across her temple. "Relax, Babe."

Stephanie leaned her head against his shoulder, melted into him and drifted away.

_TBC_


	35. The Secret's in the Telling 11

**The Secret's in the Telling 11**

_A/N: All Army & Ranger info came from Wikipedia. Any mistakes are mine or Wiki's._

_oOo_

"I'm an instructor at Ranger School," Tank said, "woodland terrain training at Fort Benning, Georgia." He took a sip of his iced tea and grimaced, reaching for the sugar. "Where I come from we drink sweet tea."

As he stirred sugar into his glass he continued, "I've been a Ranger for five years, joined the army right out of high school. Been training recruits for the past couple of years, but just put in to transfer back to an active unit. Teaching is okay, but I miss the action."

"Julio," Tina said, walking by and tipping her head at an empty table littered with dirty dishes. Julio tore himself away and went to clear the table, replaced immediately by Lester. The two of them were tag-teaming the busboy work so they could hang out in the back corner and listen to Tank talk.

"Fort Benning is where they do basic training, right?" Lester asked. "Julio and I were originally going to go there in June, but then we deferred our enlistment until September."

"September boot camp is at Fort Jackson, South Carolina," Tank said. "Where you go after that depends on what MOS you choose at enlistment."

"MOS?" Carlos asked.

"Military Occupational Specialties," Lester answered. "Julio and I both already chose infantry for our AIT, Advanced Individual Training, because that's the path that will give us the best chance to get into Ranger School."

"You'll be coming to Benning, then, after basic." Tank grinned. "If I'm still there I'll make sure your drill sergeant whips your pansy asses into shape."

As Lester moved away with reluctance to get back to his job, Tank studied Carlos. "College boy, huh? I'da never guessed from looking at you. You look more like a gang-banger."

"Rutgers Newark, business major," said Carlos.

"What year? Do you know how many credits you have?"

"I'm a second-semester junior, actually almost a senior. Eighty-four credits, counting my high school AP," Carlos replied. He counted every credit and chose every course with care, since he planned on ending up with an MBA as well as a BS after his four years.

"Hell, you're officer material, then," Tank said. "With ninety credits you can get into OCS after you finish basic and AIT. With six more credits I can have you through Ranger School and leading a team as a second lieutenant in just over a year."

Carlos shook his head. "Not in the cards. You don't make any money in the Army."

"Ah, mercenary, huh?" Tank grinned again. "Even a general don't make as much as a hotshot biz wiz. But the service had its own rewards."

"Money's only important when you don't have enough," Carlos said. "And I've never had enough."

Stephanie heard his words as she arrived at the table with a tray. "Some people never have enough," she commented, "no matter how rich they are." She set soup and salad in front of the two large men. "I'm happy just to have food on the table and a roof over my head." Her sparkling eyes danced as they met Carlos's, full of intimacy. "And maybe the occasional trip to the mall."

_oOo_

As he and Tank sat sipping coffee and waiting for Julio and Lester to finish up for the evening, Carlos heard a high-performance engine roar into the parking lot. His eyes shot to the window, just catching a glimpse of the tail end of a dark-colored Jag convertible as it whipped past, brake lights flashing. His heart went heavy in his chest.

Tank followed the line of Carlos's stare and they both watched the big, handsome man with the grim expression stride along the side of the building and enter the restaurant, pausing just inside the front door. His cold gray eyes swept the room and found Stephanie, busy halfway back on the left side taking a dessert order.

When she turned from the customers without seeing him and moved toward the back room he followed her, an air of menace drawing the attention of every single person in the restaurant. Carlos shifted his weight to the balls of his feet as first Stephanie, then the stern-faced man passed his table and entered the service area. Rising, Carlos left the table and took a long step so that he could see and hear the two, feeling Tank move in behind him.

"I'm here to take you back to Trenton," Dickie asserted, causing Stephanie to gasp and whirl around, clutching her chest.

"Omigod, Dickie, you scared me," she said. "What do you mean, take me back to Trenton? I'm not going to Trenton tonight."

"Get your things. We're leaving." Dickie's tone brooked no argument.

Stephanie's hands flew to her hips. "I'm not done here. I still have customers." She leaned forward toward him, her eyes flashing. "And who the hell do you think you are? We haven't talked in over a month. You can't come in here and order me around."

Dickie reached out and grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, yanking it off her waist and jerking her toward him. "Your mother sent me to bring you home, right now."

Stephanie tugged, trying to get him to release her arm. "Dickie, let go. You're hurting me."

Dickie turned and started to drag her toward the side door. "If you want your bag, get it now, because we're leaving."

Before he could pull Stephanie any further Carlos and Tank were on each side of him, Tank's ham-sized fist closing over the wrist of the hand that held Stephanie's arm. "Let her go," he intoned, increasing pressure until Dickie's grasp loosened enough for Stephanie to jerk away.

By this time the entire wait staff of Crabster's was crowded around the serving area, blocking off both ends. Stephanie looked around and waved the backs of her hands at Mary Lou and Tina, Julio and Lester. "Go back to work," she said. "Show's over."

She turned around to face Dickie, rubbing her wrist, which was red and already showing the beginning of a bruise. "I'm not finished here. If you want to talk, go sit down at a table and wait until I'm done." Her eyes went from Tank to Carlos, her blue gaze warm and a faint smile just touching her lips. "Thanks, guys, but I think he'll be okay now."

As their hold loosened Dickie yanked his arms away and stomped back out into the restaurant.

Fifteen minutes later Julio and Lester, finished for the night, came and sat with Carlos and Tank, none of them exhibiting any inclination to leave as long as Dickie was waiting for Stephanie. They sat in silence, sipping their respective drinks and watching to see what would happen.

A few minutes after that Stephanie came out from the back carrying her handbag. Nodding to the group of four at the back table she said, "Good night," and moved on to the booth occupied by Dickie. "Okay, Dickie. Let's go."

Carlos couldn't tear his eyes away, following their progress around the side of the building. He watched, feeling cold and sick at heart as the curly ponytail flew by and the convertible thundered away.

**TBC in Part 4—Stolen**


	36. Stolen 1

**Part 4—Stolen**

_A/N: Go to Youtube and watch the video—search Dashboard Confessional Stolen__. Near the end, the guy with the long hair on the beach could be Carlos. And if her hair were curlier, the girl could be Steph._

_oOo_

_We watch the season pull up its own stakes  
And catch the last weekend of the last week  
Before the gold and the glimmer have been replaced,  
Another sun soaked season fades away  
You have stolen my heart_

_—Chris Carrabba_

1

"We're going back to Trenton," Dickie asserted as he and Stephanie walked across the parking lot toward his car. "Your mother sent me to bring you home, and I'm bringing you home."

Stephanie stopped behind the Jag, her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed on her chest. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I need to talk to my mother first."

Dickie opened the passenger side door for her. "Then call her, right now." Stephanie remained behind the car, catching a faint whiff of beer mixed with breath mint emanating from Dickie.

"Not from here," she said. "Let's go back to my apartment. It'll give me a chance to call Mom, plus I need a shower. I can't go anywhere smelling like this." Stephanie didn't trust Dickie not to just take off once she was in the car, but she remembered how her Crabster's smell had offended him the last time he was there. He wouldn't want to drive all the way back to Trenton with that smell, even with the top down.

Her eyes, flickering yellow reflections of the parking lot's sodium vapor lights, held Dickie's until he nodded. "Okay. We'll go back to your place for a few minutes."

Stephanie didn't fasten her seatbelt, and kept a hand on the door handle, just in case. But five minutes later they were walking through the door of her apartment. "Have a seat." She gestured to the couch and handed Dickie the remote control. "I'm going to call Mom from my room."

She locked the bedroom door behind her.

_oOo_

As soon as the Jaguar shot out of the parking lot Carlos was on his feet and out the door, listening to the muscle car revving up through its gears and back down again to stop at the stop sign at the end of the block. He stood in the middle of Third Street watching the Jag's taillights as it stopped at the next stop sign, and the next.

And then the blinker went on for the left turn onto Green Street.

Carlos stayed very still and heard the deep burble of the engine as it rolled on at low speed. He sighed in relief. They were going to Stephanie's apartment.

Julio, Lester and Tank stood just behind him in the street. "Got it bad for the skinny white girl, huh?" Tank muttered, a smile in his voice. Carlos turned to face them.

"Dickie's a bastard," Julio burst out. "He hurt her. I think we should go and make sure she's okay and that he doesn't hurt her again."

Carlos took a split second to evaluate, analyze, strategize, and then he spoke with authority. "Julio, Lester, wait for Tina and Mary Lou and walk them home. I'm going to the apartment, just surveillance for now unless there's some reason to intervene. Tank, you with me?"

Tank's shining black globe of a head inclined in a nod and they set off down the street.

_oOo_

It was almost eleven o'clock, but Mrs. Plum answered the phone on the first ring.

"Mother, how could you?" Stephanie sat on the edge of her bed and kicked off her sneakers, her voice shaking with fury. "I told you I'd call you in the morning. You have _no right_ to interfere."

"Stephanie," Mrs. Plum began, but Stephanie interrupted.

"What in the _hell_ were you thinking?" she gritted out through clenched teeth, jumping up from the bed, adrenaline pumping, too agitated to sit. "I'm so angry right now that I could scream. Whatever in the world made you send Dickie Orr of all people down here after me?"

"He's your boyfriend," her mother said. "He should take care of you."

"Mother, he's _not_ my boyfriend. We dated a few times, but it's over. I haven't even talked to him in more than a month. And I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Her mother appeared to be speechless, so Stephanie plowed on, pacing from door to window between her bed and Tina's. "The last time I saw Dickie he got drunk and was a real ass. I was well rid of him, and now you send him down here to manhandle me? To hurt me and try to drag me back to Trenton? I don't think so."

Mrs. Plum's voice was high and scratchy. "I didn't know…"

"Furthermore, I have a job here. This is the biggest, busiest weekend of the year and Uncle Tommy Rosolli is counting on me to be at work. Would you have me walk out on him with no notice, just leave him in the lurch? Do you think I'd ever get another job from anyone in the Burg if I did that?"

"But Stephanie, everyone's talking about you and that, that hoodlum. They say he's in a gang…"

Stephanie interrupted again, on a roll. "Let's straighten this out once and for all. Carlos Manoso is a friend, a very good friend of mine. He's not a hoodlum or a gangbanger or any of those things. He's Cuban American, and he's a lifeguard. His brother and his friend work with us at Uncle Tommy's, so we see them every day. Carlos won a big swim race today, and I was so happy for him that I hugged him on the beach. That's all it was, although if I decide I want to date him I will, and nothing you say can stop me. He's _infinitely_ nicer than Dickie Orr and treats me much better."

Stephanie was out of breath and out of arguments, so she waited to see what her mother would say.

"Stephanie…" her mother began, but Stephanie was no longer listening. A chill worked its way up her spine, leaving her nipples tingling and heat low in her belly. She stepped to the window and pushed the curtains open.

_oOo_

Carlos and Tank turned onto Green Street, striding down the opposite side of the street from the big white house that contained Stephanie's apartment. Even from the corner Carlos could see the shadow pacing in Stephanie's room, getting larger as it approached the window and smaller as it retreated. The hair on his arms stood up as they got closer, gooseflesh working its way up to the back of his neck.

"There," he muttered to Tank, gesturing at the window.

When they reached a position across from the house they could hear the faint rise and fall of Stephanie's voice through the open window. Carlos merged himself into the tree across the street from the white house, Tank silent and invisible behind him.

Then Stephanie was at the window, pushing open the curtains with one hand while holding her phone to her ear with the other. She stared at the tree and raised her hand.

"How the hell did she know we're here?" Tank rumbled from behind him as Carlos stepped away from the tree and raised his hand in response.

"She just knows," Carlos answered, stepping back to the tree and leaning against the trunk.

_oOo_

Stephanie dragged herself away from the window after seeing Carlos. "Mom, could you repeat that? I didn't hear you."

"I said I'm sorry Stephanie. What do you want me to do?"

Stephanie's mouth hung open in shock, but she pulled herself together enough to answer. "Tell Dickie you made a mistake. Tell him I'm staying here and that you're sorry you wasted his time."

Mrs. Plum heaved out a big sigh. "Put him on."

Stephanie walked back out into the living room, saying, "My mom wants to talk to you," as she handed Dickie the phone.

She went back into her bedroom, straight to the window to stare out, Dickie's voice drifting in through the open door. In a minute he was finished and walking into her room. She spun to face him as he advanced toward her holding out her phone. "Here," he said. "Your mom apologized, said she made a mistake."

Stephanie reached out her left hand to take the phone and Dickie grabbed it, turning it to study the blackening bruise circling her wrist. "Did I do this to you, Sugarplum?" He brought the wrist up and lowered his head until his lips brushed over it. "I'm sorry."

Stephanie yanked her hand away and took a step backward, her butt hitting the window sill. "It's okay," she said.

Dickie stepped closer and his breath mint must have worn off because the beer smell was a lot stronger. "Since I'm already here, how about going out? We could go to Mac's and dance."

Stephanie squirmed, caught between the bed and the nightstand, up against the window with nowhere to go. "No thanks. I think it's best if you go home now."

"So sweet," Dickie murmured, brushing his forefinger over her lips.

She jerked her head to the side and brought up her arm to knock his hand away. "Dickie, don't touch me. Whatever little there was between us is over, and it's time for you to leave."

He sighed, the odor of his breath in her face causing her to shrink away. "Okay, Sugarplum, whatever you say. Goodnight." He grabbed her shoulder with one hand and her ponytail with the other, jerking her toward him, his lips smashing into hers.

_TBC_


	37. Stolen 2

_Warning: Smut!_

**Stolen 2**

Stephanie struggled, pushing against Dickie's chest with both hands, but he was too strong. His mouth crushed hers, trying to force it open, his tongue assaulting. She tried to knee him, but he was too close, and her barefoot stomp on his instep probably hurt her more than him.

All of a sudden there came a loud crash from the living room.

Dickie jumped back, letting go of Stephanie. Tears of relief overflowing her eyes, she pushed past him and threw herself into Carlos's arms as he raced through the doorway. He caught her up, lifting her, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, a sob escaping as she buried her face in his neck.

Carlos turned toward the door, but then stepped aside so Tank could enter. "Get rid of that piece of trash," he said to Tank, jerking his head at Dickie.

"You want I should throw him out the window?" Tank's grin was fearsome.

"I don't care. Just get him out of here."

Tank reached around and grabbed Dickie's collar, twisting and bunching it up at the back of his neck. Dickie's eyes got wider and wider until they were bugging out, and he clawed at his throat trying to relieve the pressure, his mouth opening and closing like a trout hooked and dying on the beach.

"Taking out the garbage," Tank said, frog-marching Dickie in front of him through the door and on out of the apartment.

"Carlos," Stephanie sobbed, clinging tight.

"It's okay, Babe," he answered, sitting down on the bed with her on his lap, her legs still wrapped around his waist. "You're okay now. Did he hurt you?"

Stephanie met his gaze with drenched eyes swimming crystal blue, ripping at Carlos's heart. She emitted one more choked sob as she tried to speak. The second time, her voice came out small and shaky. "I'm okay. I'll be okay. He just kissed me, forced it on me, but I couldn't get away. I was so scared."

Carlos stroked her back, one large hand massaging up and down, the other on her neck to bring her face back to his shoulder. "Shh, shh, don't cry. I've got you now."

After a moment Stephanie looked up, those wild blue eyes burning into him. She scrubbed her forearm back and forth across her mouth. "I need to get the feel of him off me. Kiss me, Carlos."

His eyes darkened, holding hers until their mouths met and her eyes fluttered shut. A jolt of heat lightninged into his gut as her mouth opened to his tongue. Her moan was so sweet he could taste it.

As the kiss whirled and spun her hands slid under his shirt, skimming up his back, tracing the muscles, then moving around his ribs to his abs, then up to his chest. Her slim fingers on his skin, those succulent lips surrendering to his, sent a fireball of lust that went straight to his loins. It took every iota of his hard-earned control to stop himself from tearing her clothes off and ramming himself into her until she screamed.

He couldn't hold back the groan as she slipped sideways and sank back onto her pillows, drawing him down with her hands twisted in his hair, never breaking that sense-stealing kiss. When she finally turned her mouth away it was to whisper, "Take off your shirt. I need your skin."

Carlos sat up and reached a hand behind his neck, pulling the shirt off and dropping it on the floor beside the bed. Watching, Stephanie squirmed and used both hands on the hem of her Crabster's t-shirt to pull it over her head, dropping it beside his.

The sight of her lying below him in her white shorts and black lace bra, her eyes dilated to indigo, was almost too much for Carlos to bear. He wanted to drink her translucent white skin, and he buried his face in her neck, breathing her in. With the shirt had gone the slight odor from the restaurant. Her flesh had the faint fruity scent of her mango shower gel, and his tongue traced its way around her throat and down.

When he reached the front hook of her bra he released it and lost himself in those beautiful soft breasts and petal pink nipples. The taste was honey and nectar, all he needed to sustain him.

Stephanie flung her arm over her mouth to muffle her scream when Carlos's mouth closed over her nipple. It wasn't the first time, but the nights on the porch had been frantic and fevered, all tongues and teeth and fumbling fingers. This was something new, this exposure, nothing between them, the light on so they could see what they'd been touching and tasting. She wanted to see him, all of him.

She shifted, pushing up with one hip until Carlos rolled to the side. "Take off your pants," she whispered, nimble fingers undoing the button of his black jeans, stroking the bulging hardness as she worked the zipper down.

"I will if you will," he murmured, rolling off the side of the bed and moving, his pants half undone, to close and lock the door. As he swung it shut, Tank walked back into the living room, and their eyes met and held for a fraction of a second before the closing door cut off the view. As Carlos turned back to Stephanie he heard the TV volume increase behind him.

Carlos kicked off his sneakers, shucked his pants and stood before Stephanie, an angel become mortal, the most glorious representation of manhood imaginable. She couldn't breathe, her lungs filled with him, her pulse throbbing, her whole being overcome with the desire to be his, all his, only his.

"Your turn, Babe." He knelt at the bottom of the bed, taking her bare feet into his hands and raising them to his lips, the pale pink polish on the toenails bringing those erect pink nipples punching into his mind.

Stephanie began to unbutton her shorts, but the moist heat of Carlos's breath on her ankle, his lips nibbling up her calf, his tongue laving her inner thigh sent her eyes rolling back in her head. Her body arched and her legs parted, offering herself to him. His clever fingers finished unfastening the shorts and his mouth followed the path as he pulled them down, ever so slowly, his mouth christening each inch of skin as it was revealed, all the way to the soft nest of dark curls, neatly trimmed.

A sound choked out as Carlos rose to his knees to strip the shorts and panties off down those long, slender legs. To have them wrapped around him as he buried himself deep… just the thought of it dragged a long groan from deep in his chest.

Shivers of pleasure rolled through Stephanie at his groan, and she spread her knees wide under his urging hands, watching his gaze move down her body. She should be embarrassed, she thought, but his dark impassioned eyes, his touch, the raw need for him aroused her beyond belief.

His mouth descending on her most intimate parts brought her to orgasm with a muffled cry, the unexpected flush of heat washing up to pinken her chest and cheeks. Carlos looked up at her from between her legs and thought it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. As he slipped a long finger inside her wetness she came again, right on the heels of the first, the tremors rocking them both.

He stilled to allow her a little recovery time, and she surprised him by reaching down and grabbing his hair, pulling him up next to her and rolling to face him. Throwing a leg over him, she wrapped around him and nudged until he swiveled and slid underneath her on the narrow bed.

"I need you, all of you," she rasped out, hoarse with lust, the craving for him beyond bearing. She rubbed herself up along his length until his head was at her entrance and then began to push down.

"Wait," he gasped, lifting her hips before she could impale herself. "Wait."

Shifting her to the side he reached down to snag his pants, his fingers clumsy with haste as he fumbled the wallet out of his pocket, the foil packet out of its compartment.

Stephanie snatched it from his hand, tearing it open with a quick, economical motion and rolling it over him. Pushing on his chest until he lay back again, she raised herself over him, poised.

"Slow and easy, Babe," he said, his hands on her hips holding her up. "I don't want to hurt you."

Stephanie rested her hands on his chest, her eyes locked with his, her fingers quivering with the hammering of his heart under them. Lowering herself, slow and careful, she gasped with pleasure as he stretched her wide, filled her completely. Carlos, she thought, his name pounding through her arteries, humming in her veins. He was all she wanted, all she needed. Her eyes closed and love for him ripped her apart. This was where she belonged.

_TBC_


	38. Stolen 3

**Stolen 3**

Stephanie lay limp beneath Carlos, bodies entangled and sated. She loved the feeling of him still inside her. A sheen of perspiration slicked between them, whether hers or his or a combination she didn't know. Or care.

When had she fallen so hard for him, she wondered, relishing the dense muscle mass of his body holding her pinned to the bed. His knees between her legs and his forearms under her shoulders took just enough of his weight to keep it from being uncomfortable. I could stay like this forever, she thought with a contented sigh.

"Deep thoughts, Babe?" Carlos lifted his head from her shoulder to look down at her, and she studied his beautiful face. How could this Adonis, this perfect man, want to be with her? She didn't understand it, but didn't want to question. Just enjoy it while it lasts, she told herself.

His eyebrow quirked in inquiry. "Babe?"

"Huh?" Oh yes, brilliant repartee, she thought. The feelings he stirred up in her made her stupid. She brought her hands up to cradle his face, running her fingers over the smoothness. He must have shaved when he showered before his dinner with Tank.

Amusement turned up the corners of his mouth. "Babe."

"I had no idea," she breathed, stretching her neck to brush her lips against his.

"No idea about what?" Carlos shifted his weight to the side a little so he could rub his arm up along hers and slide it under her neck, his hand in the back of her hair. Sometime during their lovemaking he'd pulled off the elastic band holding her ponytail and her hair was spread in wild, crazy curls across the pillow.

"No idea how incredible that was going to be. You're amazing, Batman."

Still holding his face, Stephanie graced him with a smile that caused his heart to roll over in his chest. His return smile was just as brilliant. "It was you, Babe. You're amazing." He'd never been with anyone so responsive. Stephanie inspired emotions in him that he didn't known he could feel, never expected.

The sound of voices coming down the street caused Carlos to raise his head and look toward the sheer curtains waving over the open window. "Sounds like the cavalry is coming. Do you want to get in the shower before they get upstairs?"

"I don't want to move," Stephanie murmured, but after a few seconds she sighed. "But I guess I'd better."

When Carlos slipped out of her she whimpered, and he felt like doing the same. Their fit was perfect, as if their bodies were formed from a single mold.

Rising, Carlos grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wrapped up the used condom. Standing naked he watched Stephanie rise, the vision of her pale, slender curves bringing him back to readiness as she stretched.

Catching the look on his face, Stephanie wrapped her arms around his waist and turned her face up to meet his lips. Carlos groaned as she rubbed against him, her hands sliding down to grip his ass and pull him tighter against her. "I wish we had the whole night," he said.

"Me, too." Stephanie released him and turned to pull fresh clothes out of a dresser drawer.

Carlos pulled on his jeans, zipping but not buttoning them. He held his black t-shirt out for her to slip over her head and they walked together to the bathroom, his arm around her waist, his big body shielding her from Tank's view. Once in the bathroom Carlos disposed of the condom and retrieved his shirt from her, stealing one last lingering kiss before leaving Stephanie to her shower.

_oOo_

Mary Lou came bursting through the apartment door, followed closely by Tina. "Omigod," exclaimed Mary Lou, "where's Steph? What happened with Dickie?"

Carlos was relaxed on the opposite end of the couch from Tank, leaning back into the corner with his left arm stretched along the back. "Stephanie's in the shower," he told Mary Lou. "Dickie…" He cocked an inquiring eyebrow at Tank.

The huge man's fierce grin put in an appearance. "Dickie got a tad aggressive. Had to escort him off the premises."

Julio, Lester and Lenny were in the room by that time and further explanations were tabled as Carlos rose to shake Lenny's hand. "How's it going, Lenny?"

"Did you hear that someone broke into the police station and stole the toilet? Right now the cops have nothing to go on." Lenny's laugh echoed through the small apartment.

Mary Lou rolled her eyes. "Plumber jokes," she muttered as she introduced Lenny to Tank. "This is my fiancé, Lenny Stankovic, the guy who's never where he says he's going to be."

"Aww, honey, I got tired of the arcade." Lenny pulled Mary Lou against his side. "And I wasn't that far. You found me."

"What we have here is a failure to communicate." Mary Lou frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "You should have called to tell me your plans changed."

"But then you wouldn't have anything to yell at me about, and you know how it turns me on when you yell." Lenny grinned and buried his face in her neck. Mary Lou tried to maintain her frown, but a smile gave lie to her anger as Lenny nuzzled and blew raspberries until she collapsed against him, giggling and squirming.

Julio moved over to lean against the wall near Tank's seat on the couch. "So what happened with the Dick?" Julio asked.

A deep rumbling chuckle vibrated from Tank's chest. "Had a little come-to-Jesus talk with him." The unholy grin was back on his face. "Convinced him that if he bothers Stephanie again he be goin' to meet his Maker."

Julio uttered a short laugh. "I hope you hurt him, bad."

Tank's chuckle came again as he rubbed the knuckles of his right hand with his left. "Well, let's just say that pretty-boy face ain't so handsome no more. And…" Tank's expression was pure evil, "…hope he had a towel to put on that fancy car seat. Pretty sure I scared the piss out of him."

_oOo_

Stephanie finished her shower and studied her hair in the mirror. Hmm, to dry or not to dry, she thought. She was in a hurry to get back out to see if Carlos was still there. If Julio and Lester showed up, Carlos and Tank probably left with them, she thought, her heart hanging low and heavy in her chest.

She quickly ran some anti-frizz serum through her conditioned and combed curls, blew the hairdryer at the roots for a minute and pulled the damp hair back into the ever-present ponytail. Good enough, she thought, pulling on panties, loose khaki shorts and a black Matchbox Twenty concert t-shirt, not bothering with a bra.

Turning off the bathroom light she cracked the door open. The first thing she saw was Lenny and Lester sitting in the two easy chairs with Mary Lou and Tina snuggled in comfort on their laps. The sudden loud sound of gunfire and screeching tires thundered from the TV.

She eased the door open a little more. Tank was sitting at the right-hand end of the couch, the bluish light from the television reflecting off his dark face. Her heart leaped in her chest. Carlos was probably still here.

A little wider… Julio was sitting on the floor in front of the center cushion of the couch. His eyes met hers and a smile lit up his face.

All of a sudden a large body was in front of the bathroom door, pushing it open, and she was swept up into muscled arms.

"Batman," she whispered just before hot, hungry lips took her over and all conscious thought was lost in sensation.

_TBC_


	39. Stolen 4

**Stolen 4**

"Omigod, omigod, _omigod!"_ Mary Lou dragged Stephanie into the bedroom, Tina following on their heels and slamming the door behind them. "The way Carlos was kissing you…." Mary Lou dropped to a seat on Tina's bed and fanned herself with her hand, panting, mouth open.

Tina sank down next to her, eyes bright with curiosity as she studied Stephanie's face. "He never let go of you the whole movie. He couldn't keep his hands off you. And don't think we didn't notice you guys were doing more kissing than watching. Are you … together now?"

Stephanie looked at her unmade and rumpled bed and blushed as she sat down, remembering what happened there.

Seeing the color in Stephanie's face, Tina pointed at the tangled sheets and gasped. "Omigod, I _know_ that bed was made when we left for work this morning. Did you and Carlos...?"

"Omigod, omigod, _omigod!"_ Mary Lou shrieked, leaping up and hopping from one foot to the other.

"Shhh," Stephanie cautioned, index finger over her lips. "Lenny will hear. Or the people next door. Or the _whole freakin' block!"_

Mary Lou bounded over to the door and then, stilling herself, opened it up and peeked out. "Go ahead and get in bed, baby. I'll be there in a few minutes," she called, giving Lenny a little finger wave. As soon as the door was shut, she turned back to Stephanie, bouncing back across the room Tigger-like.

"You have to tell us everything," Tina commanded, also on her feet again, hovering over Stephanie. "Start at the beginning. What happened with Dickie?"

"Sit down and I'll tell you." Stephanie gestured at Tina's bed, and when they were both seated across from her she began to talk. "…and after Tank took Dickie away, Carlos kissed me and, well…" She gestured at the bed, her face scarlet. "It just happened."

"We were worried about you," Mary Lou said. "But we had to go find Lenny after work, and Les and Julio _promised_ us Carlos and Tank would take care of you… Omigod!" Mary Lou's hazel eyes were the size of dinner plates as she stared at the tangled sheets. "Talk about _taking care_ of you!" She hit the switch of the fan on the nightstand and swiveled it so it was blowing directly in her face.

"So," Tina interjected, "how was it? It had to be better than the floor of the Tasty Pastry."

If possible Stephanie's cheeks got even redder. "It was…" She covered her face with both hands. "I'm sorry, I can't talk about it."

"It's okay, Steph, you don't have to tell us the details." Mary Lou, always practical, took another tack. "You guys were so lovey dovey during the movie that it must have been good. But it's so sudden. I mean, there was always that heat between you two, but it seems like you hardly even know each other."

"It's not really that sudden," Stephanie admitted. "We've been seeing each other a lot and have gotten to know each other really well over the last month or so."

"When?" Tina asked. "We've only seen Carlos a few times."

"Well…" Stephanie looked at first Tina, then Mary Lou, then dropped her eyes. "We've been sitting down on the porch every night after you guys are asleep."

"Aha! So that's why you've been so tired all the time." Mary Lou nodded. "Yes, I understand. I can't even count the number of times I snuck out during the night to meet Lenny."

"Yeah." Tina nodded her agreement. "I used to climb out the bathroom window to see that bastard Louie." Her face drooped. "What a waste."

"But you've got Lester now," Mary Lou said. "And he's a great guy."

"Les is fun to hang out with," Tina said, "and he's a really great kisser. But it's just a little rebound thing, a summer fling. You know he's going away in September, and that'll be the end of it." She squared her shoulders and looked back at Stephanie. "But Carlos and you, well that could be a lot more than a summer fling, right Steph?"

Stephanie nodded and then the truth came out in a low, husky voice. "I think I'm in love with him."

_oOo_

"Better get some sleep so you're ready to get your ass whooped tomorrow." Tank's big white teeth split his dark face as he grinned at Carlos.

"Don't forget to eat your Wheaties in the morning just to be safe." Carlos grinned back and bumped fists with him.

"Gentlemen." Tank nodded to Julio and Lester, turned and walked away toward the boardwalk.

Carlos, Julio and Lester turned in the opposite direction toward their room.

"Do you think he can help us get into Ranger school?" Julio asked as they walked through the balmy summer night.

"Best way to get in is to kick ass in boot camp and AIT," Lester answered. "And I'm thinking we haven't been training enough over the summer."

"Carlos, can you get us into the high school weight room with you?" Julio asked. "I want to do some lifting."

"Never anyone there early in the morning. Don't think it'll be a problem if you tag along," Carlos said.

After a couple minutes of strolling in silence, Lester started in. "So Carlos, what's going on with you and Steph?"

"Why?" Carlos avoided the question.

"Well, that was a hell of a lot of kissing you guys were doing, and I've gotta say, she certainly had that just-fucked look tonight." Lester's grin was huge.

"Santos," growled Carlos. "Enough."

"Just sayin'," Lester muttered, but the look on Carlos's face was enough to silence him.

As they turned the corner onto Ocean Avenue Julio gave his older brother an intense stare. "Steph isn't like your usual hookups. She's something special, and if you hurt her you're going to be sorry."

Lester gaped at his friend. "Holy shit, you too, Coolio? Is this, like, in the Manoso genes, to fall ass flat for little white girls with curly hair?"

"I mean it, 'Los." Julio's narrowed eyes glared at Carlos from under drawn-together brows. "You'd better not hurt her."

"Don't sweat it, bro." Carlos wasn't afraid of any threat from his brother, but he didn't want to hurt him either. "I know she's not my usual, but you're right, she's something special. I won't hurt her."

_oOo_

Carlos lay on the lumpy couch, unable to sleep, thoughts roiling around in his head. The Titanium Man contest. Weight lifting tomorrow, and it was likely Tank was going to win that one. So the winner of the 10K run on Sunday morning would take the competition.

But always his thoughts returned to Stephanie. A small smile curved his lips as he thought about her surprise tonight at how good their lovemaking was. But it was nowhere near enough. He wanted to spend a whole night with her, a week of nights, a month… He couldn't get enough of her.

Their midnight trysts on the porch had convinced him that she was much too good for the likes of him. And yet he wanted to be with her as he'd never wanted any other woman. What was between them was so much more than the physical. They were somehow connected, heart to heart, soul to soul.

Carlos shook his head as he rolled to his feet, sinuous and silent as a big cat, muscles rippling under his skin. Idiot, he told himself as he pulled a t-shirt and shorts on and let himself out into the hall.

Ten minutes later he was inching up the screen on Stephanie's bedroom window. In perfect silence he slipped through and slid into bed behind her, wrapping her up in his arms. Just for a little while, he thought.

Stephanie roused enough to turn her head so her cheek rested against his. She nuzzled her buttocks into his pelvis and was out again in an instant. Just before dropping into sleep Carlos thought, I think I'm in love with her.

_TBC_


	40. Stolen 5

**Stolen 5**

_Two days later, Sunday morning_

"Ready… Set…" And with a crack of the pistol the race began. Stephanie stood along Front Street with Tina, Mary Lou, Lenny, Lester and Julio, her lips still tingling from the kiss Carlos had planted on her before taking his place at the start line. Her heart fluttered as he ran by, lifting his left hand at their little group, her blue scrunchie bright around his brown wrist.

"It's going to be more than a half hour before they get back," Lester said. "Let's go up on the boards and grab a drink, maybe something to eat. We didn't have any breakfast, and I'm hungry."

"No, let's wait until after the race," Julio answered. "We can go to the diner and buy Carlos brunch to celebrate his win."

Stephanie was studying the map of the race route. "If we walk over to Ocean Avenue we can see them pass the halfway point, then come back here for the finish."

Lester grinned at her. "Got it bad for him, don't you?"

Stephanie blushed. "I just want to see how the race is going."

"Carlos should win this one easy," Julio said as the group started walking up Front Street toward Ocean. "He runs anywhere from five to ten miles every morning, and 10K is about six miles, right in his range."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Lester said. "Tank's a Ranger instructor, for God's sake. He's in ultra-max condition. And he told me the other night that he runs twenty miles a day with his trainees. He's going to give Carlos a run for his money."

The previous day Stephanie had again taken her lunch hour early so she could go see the weight lifting competition. It quickly came down to Tank versus Carlos, in spite of the fact that the scoring system was designed to even the playing field for all the competitors, no matter their size.

Watching the two men lifting the huge barbells was a lesson in self-discipline, Stephanie thought. Muscles bulging and straining, sweat gleaming on bare chests and abs, knees trembling, the two pushed themselves beyond reasonable limits. Even though she was rooting for Carlos to win, Stephanie's heart pounded in her chest with each lift, and it was almost a relief when he finally reached his limit.

Tank beat Carlos out by a fraction of a point. Today's race would determine the overall winner of the competition.

_oOo_

Carlos set a rapid pace at the beginning of the run, knowing attempts to keep up with him would tire the other runners early in the race. All except Tank, who matched him stride for stride, making it look easy in spite of his bulk. The two fell into a comfortable rhythm side by side, far in front of the others.

As they approached the midpoint, Carlos knew Stephanie was there before he saw her. Her nearness always generated a vibration in his flesh, a palpitation in his spine that settled in the back of his neck. As he and Tank, still running in tandem, passed the group of cheering and clapping friends each raised a hand in acknowledgement.

The last kilometer Carlos increased his pace to a fast sprint, knowing it would take all his resources to beat Tank. He pulled ahead of the larger man, who increased his own speed in an unsuccessful effort to keep up. When the finish line came into sight Carlos was ahead by fifty feet, an insurmountable lead.

And then he saw the news vans. The finish line was surrounded by television trucks with satellite dishes on the roofs. Standing alongside the last few yards were casually dressed men and women with intricate cameras and huge lenses aimed at the finish line. And to one side was a dais with a platform where the winner would stand.

In a split second Carlos evaluated his options and made a decision, hobbling to a halt, doubled over and grasping his calf.

Tank slowed as he passed him. "You okay?" he rumbled.

"I'm fine. Go," Carlos commanded him, and Tank ran on.

Carlos limped toward the finish line, bent over, still clutching his calf, until two other runners passed him. By the time he limped in, the cameras were all aimed at Tank, reporters crowding in to interview him.

Stephanie met him just past the finish, grabbed his face and looked into his eyes. "You okay, Batman?"

He gave her a small smile and straightened up, the limp disappearing as he walked with his friends toward the award area. "I'm fine, Babe."

She studied him, her head tilted as her mind worked and came to a rapid conclusion. Although he hadn't given her a whole lot of details about his activities in Newark, she figured he didn't want the not-so-nice guys from his past to know where he was. Gesturing at the crowd surrounding Tank, she said, "It's the reporters, isn't it? You don't want the publicity."

The corners of his mouth curved up but in lieu of an answer he grabbed her ponytail and drew her in for a quick brush of his lips over hers.

"Cramp?" Lenny asked Carlos.

"Yeah."

"Tough luck, pal."

"Yeah."

The group of friends stood together and watched Tank's crowning as Titanium Man, clapping and cheering as he stood on the winner's platform and grinned, holding up a trophy that looked like a miniature in his gargantuan fist.

_oOo_

Stephanie glanced at the clock as she wound her way through the maze of tables in the restaurant. Wow, almost nine and she still hadn't had her evening break. Things were finally slowing down enough so she could take her fifteen minutes.

"I'm going on break," she told Tina and Mary Lou, filling them in on the few tables they'd need to cover for her.

She wondered if Carlos would be outside. Her dinner break was early, before Lester and Julio arrived at five for their shift, so she hadn't seen him since they'd all gone to the Shore Diner for brunch with Tank after the race this morning. But as the group walked back to Crabster's to drop the girls off for their shift, Julio had come up to walk beside her, opposite Carlos, who had his arm around her waist.

"Carlos," Julio said, "I just want you to know that meeting Tank has made me want to be a Ranger more than ever. I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize that. You don't have to worry about me trying to get drugs anymore. I'm finished with them, I promise. For good."

Carlos gave his brother a penetrating look and nodded, apparently satisfied.

After Julio's promise this morning, she didn't think Carlos needed to watch him anymore, so maybe he wouldn't be outside tonight.

Stephanie trudged on achy legs into the storeroom off the kitchen, where the employee lockers stood. After almost two months she was sick of eating Crabster's food, and she was pretty sure she had a Snickers bar in the bottom of her shoulder bag.

Candy in her pocket and Coke in hand, she opened the side door just enough to slip through into the almost-dark. A rare summer fog had rolled in off the ocean, and the parking lot looked a little spooky, the lights overhead casting long, wavering shadows. Stephanie shivered as the damp air hit her overheated skin, gooseflesh crawling over her, and she almost turned around and went right back inside.

Then the warmth of a tall, hard, body wrapped around her from behind.

"Batman," she murmured, turning in his arms and raising her face for his seeking mouth.

"Babe," he answered against her lips.

"I wasn't sure you'd be here tonight." She waited while he seated himself on the bench and then dropped onto his lap, nestling into his sheltering arms. "Julio's doing so well, and maybe you don't need to watch him all the time."

Carlos laid his lips over hers, his tongue teasing her lower lip until she dropped it open for him. His mouth clouded her mind and sent a fireball through her body, sparking to her nipples and down into her belly, straight to her core. All she could think of was the beyond-imagining pleasure of having him inside her.

"I can't stay away from you." Carlos's breath stirred against her mouth. "I need you, Babe."

Stephanie stared into his deep, dark eyes, her own flashing blue sparks in the dimness. "I need you, too, Batman."

_TBC_


	41. Stolen 6

_Warning: A little smutty_

**Stolen 6**

_Two weeks later, Tuesday_

"See you guys tomorrow." Mary Lou's grin couldn't have been bigger, and Lenny's matched it as they bade Stephanie and Tina goodbye and picked up Mary Lou's suitcase and a huge basket of laundry to take back to Trenton.

Today was their big day. They were making settlement on a small row house in the Burg. Lenny was taking a couple days off and they'd begin moving some of their things in right away today, first and foremost their bed. They wouldn't be back until tomorrow afternoon, just in time for Mary Lou to go to work at five o'clock.

"Good luck," Stephanie called as the apartment door closed behind them.

"Wow, it's hard to think of Mary Lou and Lenny being actual homeowners," Tina said.

"Yeah, marriage, a house. You just know kids will be the next thing." Stephanie rubbed her hands up and down opposite arms and shuddered. "I can't imagine it. I feel like I'm still a kid myself, barely learning to walk on my own. I don't want to get married or have kids for years and years and years." If ever, she added to herself as she headed for the bathroom to get ready for work.

An hour later as the two waitresses walked toward Crabster's to work the lunch shift Tina said, "Are you going out with Carlos tonight?"

"Yeah, he asked me to dinner." Stephanie glanced at her friend. Tina looked a little wistful, she thought. She still wasn't completely over Louis Morelli, in spite of her summer fling with Lester. Stephanie felt bad about leaving her home alone for the evening. "Hey, maybe Les and Julio will come, too, and we can all go somewhere different for a change."

"That's nice of you," Tina said, "but don't you want to be alone with Carlos? You guys haven't had much time together."

"Well…" Stephanie hesitated, not sure how to broach the subject of tonight. "I was thinking…" She trailed off.

"What?" Tina wasn't as perceptive as Mary Lou where Stephanie's moods were concerned, but she could read her enough to know something was on her mind.

"Well, I was thinking, since I'm going to be seeing Carlos tonight, and since Mary Lou's gone, well…" A flush worked its way up Stephanie's neck to stain her cheeks pink.

"Oh!" Tina's eyebrows went up and her mouth opened. "Oh, do you want Carlos to sleep over?"

Now Stephanie's face was bright red. "Well, we haven't talked about it or anything, but just in case, do you mind?"

"Of course not!" Tina exclaimed. "Do you want the bedroom? I wouldn't mind sleeping on the couch."

"No, no, I don't want to kick you out of your bed," Stephanie was quick to assure her. "If it happens, _if_ Carlos stays over, we'll take the sofa bed."

They reached the restaurant and Stephanie dropped the subject with a sigh of relief.

_oOo_

"Well…" Tina gave an ostentatious yawn. "I'm tired, so good night, guys. And Carlos, thanks for letting us tag along tonight."

"De nada." Carlos nodded at Tina, the corners of his lips quirking up.

"Night," Stephanie said, her smile and a tilt of her head communicating a silent thanks to Tina for her consideration in leaving them alone.

Stephanie had texted Carlos during her break asking him to call her when he got off work at four. Julio had to work at the restaurant, but it was Lester's night off, and the moment Carlos realized Stephanie's dilemma he suggested having Tina and Lester join them for dinner. They had a delicious meal at an Italian restaurant in downtown Point Pleasant and finished just in time to pick up Julio from Crabster's at nine. Then the five drove out to the large multiplex near the mall to see a raunchy teen comedy that had them all laughing out loud.

After dropping Lester and Julio off at their room, Carlos brought Stephanie and Tina home. A thrill rippled through Stephanie as she watched him retrieve a black duffle bag from the back of his SUV before following them into the big white house and up the stairs to their apartment.

"So," said Stephanie, sitting down on the couch next to Carlos and kicking off her sandals, "what do you want to do now?"

With a wolf-like grin Carlos pulled her onto his lap, both arms around her, and lowered his mouth to hers. In mere moments she was so lost in the demands of his lips, in the delectable essence of him, that she never heard Tina come out of the bathroom and shut herself into the bedroom.

His hands were so gentle, so brilliant, she thought, with a genius for touching the perfect spot in the exact right way. They skimmed over her, sliding beneath her shirt and teasing up and down her back, somehow unhooking her bra in the process.

Without knowing exactly how she got there, she found herself flat on her back on the couch, her legs wrapped around Carlos as he leaned over her. His hands eased her shirt up and closed over her breasts, thumbs tormenting her already hard nipples to even greater heights. When his mouth left hers to follow the path of his hands she gasped, the warmth of his tongue sending chills skittering over her skin and heat rocketing deep within.

"Carlos," she gasped. "Let's open up the bed."

His dark eyes were filled with fire when they captured hers, his lips slightly parted as they lifted from her heaving chest. Without a word he reared back onto his knees, lifting her up against his chest, and rose to his feet with effortless grace, holding her in his arms. His strength, the carved granite of his biceps around her, left her trembling, feeling small and soft and weak, ready to surrender.

He allowed her to slide down his body until her feet touched the floor, knees wobbly. Keeping hold of his rocklike arm, Stephanie began pulling cushions off the sofa, thankful she'd had the foresight to make up the bed with Mary Lou's extra set of sheets this morning.

Steady enough to walk now, Stephanie grabbed the two pillows from the closet shelf while Carlos pulled the bed out. After tossing the pillows on the bed, she watched him dig a box of condoms out of his duffle bag, tearing open the top as he placed them on the end table.

"I want you so much, Babe." His voice was raspy as sandpaper, his mouth firm and possessive as it took hers again, drawing her into him until she was dizzy and trembling. He broke the kiss just long enough to strip her shirt off over her head, bra going with it, and then bent and hooked his hand under her knees, lifting her into his arms as he tried to devour her mouth. She lay limp against his chest, a prisoner of his power, her soul bonded to his through tongues and teeth and lips.

She whimpered when he laid her on the bed, not wanting to lose contact even for the few seconds it took him to toe off his shoes, yank off his shirt, strip off his pants. Watching, she thought he looked like a god standing there, bold and mighty and glorious. His flawless male beauty, the expression on his face as he looked at her, made her heart somersault in her chest.

She held her arms out to him. "Come here. Make love to me."

"You're overdressed, Babe." His quick grin appeared and then faded as he unbuttoned her denim skirt and dragged it down her hips and over her feet, leaving her wearing only a thong. And then that was gone and his hands and mouth were teasing, torturing, driving her up and up and up.

When he slipped inside her the first orgasm washed over her like waves of velvet, warm and wild and wet.

_oOo_

Dawn streaked the sky as Carlos awakened in the unfamiliar bed with the familiar smell of faint mango and tropical heat filling his nostrils. Stephanie lay half on top of him, and he brushed his hand over her curls, pushing them back so he could see her face where it rested on his shoulder.

She looked like an angel, he thought, all alabaster skin with a dark cloud of curls haloing her exquisite face. His cock was a steel rod, and the vision of his dark hands moving over her paleness shook him to the core with need.

"Mmm, Batman," she mumbled, rotating her pelvis against his hip, still half asleep. His fingers were slow and easy, taking her up and carrying her over the edge, absorbing her shudders into his flesh and her cry into his mouth. As she pushed herself to her hands and knees over him he reached for the condom box yet again.

_TBC_


	42. Stolen 7

**Stolen 7**

_Three weeks later, Monday evening_

"So Steph, what do you and Carlos have planned for tomorrow night?" Julio asked Stephanie as he rolled his cart past her in the restaurant service area. "Are you doing something special?"

Stephanie finished scooping lettuce into four bowls and used the tongs to add cucumber and tomato slices. "What do you mean, special?" she asked, glancing up and trying to calculate if it was some anniversary of the day they met. Wow, exactly three months ago tomorrow, she decided, checking her order pad to get the right dressings for the salads. But how would Julio remember that?

"Didn't he tell you?" Julio asked, then shook his head and added almost to himself, "No, of course he didn't."

"Tell me what?" Stephanie began ladling New England clam chowder, a Crabster's specialty, into soup cups, each on its own saucer on her tray.

"Tomorrow is his birthday. Twenty." Julio grimaced. "And now he's going to kill me for telling you."

"Omigod," Stephanie burst out stopping in mid-ladle, "his birthday? We need to have a surprise party for him or something."

"No, no, he hates birthday parties. That's probably why he didn't tell you." Julio hauled his full tub of dirty dishes off his cart and carried it through the kitchen door, well defined biceps and triceps standing out on his arms. He'd put on some muscle mass over the past month or so since he started lifting with Carlos, Stephanie thought. She was pretty sure he'd grown a couple inches taller since they met back in May. He was just eighteen, but he looked really good, tough and strong, ready for the Army. And so much like Carlos it made her heart roll over in her chest.

As she finished dishing up the soup Julio came back from the kitchen with an empty bin for his cart. "Steph, maybe you should just forget I ever said anything."

"Don't worry, Hoo, I won't get you in trouble." Stephanie picked up the tray and hoisted it to her shoulder to carry it out to her customers, her mind churning. Birthdays were a big deal in her family, as they were all over the Burg, occasions to party, celebrate, and best of all, eat birthday cake.

"Hey, Lou, got a question for you," Stephanie said to Mary Lou when she caught her back in the service area a while later. "If you wanted to do something special for someone's birthday, but they didn't want a party, what would you do?"

"You mean someone like a boyfriend?" Mary Lou asked. "Like Carlos?"

"What's up?" Tina came hustling in, grabbed four glasses and began filling them with iced tea. "What about Carlos?"

"Tomorrow is his birthday," Stephanie told them. "But he didn't want me to know about it, and Julio says he hates parties. What am I going to do? I can't just ignore it and pretend I don't know."

"Ooh, ooh, I know." Mary Lou bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. "How about a romantic candlelight dinner? Tell him you want to stay in and cook for him. Guys love that! And…" she was practically vibrating with excitement, "…Lenny and I will be at our house, so he can spend the night."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Lou, you know I can't cook worth a damn. If I tried to make him dinner, it would scare him away forever. Plus then, you know, the fire department would have to come, and the apartment would smell like smoke, and we couldn't even spend the night there."

Both Tina and Mary Lou were laughing out loud by that point. "Steph," Mary Lou said once she'd gotten over her fit of the giggles, "you don't have to really cook the dinner. Isn't there a big container of your mom's sauce and meatballs in the freezer from when your folks visited the other week? You can heat it up in the microwave. All you need to do is take home some salad from here and boil water for pasta."

"Yeah, and take some rolls, too," Tina chimed in, "and butter pats. Even you can cook pasta, right, Steph? And Carlos will love it."

"Yeah," Stephanie decided, "I might be able to do that. Tina, you'll help me get started, right?"

Tina nodded and started out the door with her glasses of iced tea. "But," Stephanie added, "not a word to Carlos. I want it to be a surprise."

_oOo_

_The next evening_

"I can't thank you enough for all the help, Tina." Stephanie surveyed the apartment. It looked terrific, she thought. They'd moved the tiny kitchen table out into the living room and covered it with a white tablecloth borrowed from the restaurant. There were white candles in sparkling fake crystal candlesticks that they'd picked up at the dollar store, and a bottle of wine ready to open.

"I think everything's all ready," Tina told her. "You just need to boil the water and put the pasta in, dish up the salad and set the microwave to heat up the sauce and meatballs." The two friends had spent the afternoon in a whirlwind of activity, hitting half a dozen stores to get everything they needed and then setting it all up.

"Wow, six o'clock. I've gotta hit the shower so I'll be ready in time," Stephanie said as the two walked into the bedroom. "What time are you meeting Les and Julio?"

"I'm leaving right now." Tina picked up a big tote bag from the foot of her bed.

"What's that?" Stephanie eyed the bag.

"It's a birthday present to you and Carlos," Tina said with a satisfied smile, "from me and Les and Julio. I'm going to stay at their place tonight so you and Carlos can have the apartment to yourselves."

Although not normally a hugger, Stephanie threw her arms around her friend. "Omigod, thank you so much! You're the best friend ever!"

"I'll be back sometime in the morning" Tina said as she walked toward the door. "Have a great night."

"Give Les and Julio hugs for me," Stephanie told her and began stripping off her clothes.

At five minutes to seven Stephanie collapsed onto the couch, running through dinner preparation steps in her mind. She'd just turned the stove on to start heating up the water, and the colander was on the counter, waiting to drain the pasta. The sauce was already hot and sitting in the microwave, just needing a minute or two of reheating when she was ready to serve it. The salads were dished up in the fridge, ready to go, and the corkscrew was sitting on the table next to the wine bottle.

She leaned back, stretched out her legs and looked down her body. She had a new outfit, a short skirt in black denim and an ice blue stretchy knit top with a low-cut v-neck filled in by a lacy insert. Beneath her clothes, ready to be revealed at the proper time, was a powder blue silk-and-lace demi-bra and thong set. Black strappy sandals with a three-inch stacked heel made her legs look longer, she thought, and they were enhanced by the pale golden tan she'd managed to acquire over the summer. She'd kept the makeup to a minimum, knowing Carlos preferred that look, and spent extra time on her hair so she could wear it down in soft waves. She looked pretty good if she did say so herself. She hoped like hell Carlos agreed.

Her stomach was jitterbugging with nerves. What if Carlos was mad at her for wanting to celebrate his birthday? She looked at the small gift bag sitting on the floor beside the couch. What if Carlos hated it or thought it was stupid? What if she screwed up the dinner in spite of Tina's help? She wanted everything to be just perfect tonight, and where she was concerned that was often a recipe for disaster.

Even though she was expecting it, the knock on the apartment door made Stephanie jump, her heart hammer. She rose, took a deep breath and went to answer it.

_TBC_


	43. Stolen 8

**Stolen 8**

The second the door opened Carlos swept Stephanie up into his arms, lifting her from the floor and taking her mouth, his kiss so hot that she wondered if steam was coming out of her ears.

"Wow," she gasped looking up at his dazzling smile when he set her back down, the divine beauty of his face sending that shock of delight through her, as always. "What was that for?"

"Haven't seen you all day, Babe." His voice was hoarse and his eyes dark with lust. "Missed you."

Stephanie blushed and dropped her eyes. "After last night, and this morning, well, I'd think you'd be getting tired of me." Her glance slid to where his duffle bag sat in the corner of the living room. Since Mary Lou and Lenny were working on their house, they went back to Trenton every Monday night after work and didn't return until late Wednesday afternoon. Carlos and Stephanie were taking full advantage of their two nights a week on the sofa bed.

He put two fingers under her chin and tipped her face back up to meet his heated gaze. "Every minute we spend together makes me want you more."

Stephanie slid both hands up his chest and framed his face. He was so perfect, she thought, not only gorgeous in face and body, but also kind and thoughtful, always saying the right thing, making her feel good about herself. Nobody in her life had ever given her such unconditional support, not even her best friends.

She stood on her toes to pass soft lips over his and then released him. As she took a half step back she saw the flowers in his hand.

"What's this?" she asked.

He handed her the bunch of white carnations. "For you."

She brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled their spicy scent. "My favorites. I love carnations. How did you know?"

"I didn't. Just liked the way they smelled."

"Thanks, Batman. I'll see if we have a vase." .She started to turn away but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Happy three-month anniversary, Babe."

She gaped at him. "How the hell did you remember that?"

"May twelfth. It was the day after I moved in here, our first day at the beach." The corners of his mouth curved up. "I was just lying on the beach, minding my own business, when I felt this, I don't know, kind of an itchy feeling, like someone was watching me."

"When I saw you walking across the beach toward us, I thought you were the most beautiful guy I'd ever seen in my life," Stephanie told him. "But you looked so sad. I just wanted to kiss it and make it better."

Carlos pulled her back into his arms. Just before his mouth came down on hers again he murmured, "You did, Babe."

The ding of the timer from the kitchen dragged them both back to reluctant awareness.

"So what's going on here?" Carlos asked, gesturing at the table, the candles, the wine.

"Dinner," Stephanie said. "I'm cooking for you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you say we were going to order takeout tonight?"

Stephanie turned and walked toward the kitchen, shooting a grin back over her shoulder. "I lied."

Carlos followed her, standing in the kitchen doorway and admiring her flushed cheeks as she leaned over the stove to look into the large pot there. "I thought you hated cooking, Babe."

"Not boiling yet," she muttered under her breath. "I usually hate to cook," she told him, "but since this is a special occasion I wanted to do something special for you." She walked back over to him and slid her hands up his arms, tracing the stone-carved muscles as she gave him another soft brush of her lips. "Happy birthday, Batman."

"Who spilled the beans?" he asked, trying to look stern but unable to cover the smile she brought to his face.

"Why don't you open the wine?" Stephanie didn't want to get Julio in trouble, so she ignored his question. "I think it should breathe for a few minutes before we drink it."

_oOo_

"That was delicious," Carlos said, leaning back and raising his wine glass to her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Stephanie rose and picked up the plates to carry into the kitchen. "Do you want to have dessert now or wait a while?"

"Babe." Again he was unable to contain a smile. "You know I don't eat dessert."

"But it's your _birthday,_ Carlos." She set the dishes on the counter and came back to the doorway, hands on her hips, voice stern. "You have to have birthday cake. It wouldn't be a real birthday without it."

She was irresistible, Carlos thought, and realized he'd do almost anything to make her happy. "Well," he said, rising, "maybe I'll share a piece with you. But let's clean up first. I'll help."

Dishes done, table moved back into the kitchen, Stephanie led Carlos to the couch. "Sit," she said, and seating herself next to him handed him the gift bag from the floor beside her.

"You shouldn't have." Carlos hooked his arm around her neck and drew her against him, dropping a kiss on her curls.

"It's not much," Stephanie told him. "Just a little something to remind you of me when we have to go back to school in the fall."

Carlos pulled the tissue paper from the gift bag and extracted a small box. When he opened it a huge smile plastered his face. It was a keychain with a pewter oval depicting the Batman symbol. He flipped it over and read the engraving. "Batman, Babe, and the year." He wrapped her up in his arms. "Thank you, Babe. It's perfect." And his mouth came crashing down on hers.

Gasping for air again, Stephanie tore herself away. "Cake," she wheezed. "We have to have cake. You stay here and I'll get it."

She hurried into the kitchen to take his cake out of the bakery box. Twenty candles blazing, she carried it out and handed it to him.

"Happy birthday, Carlos," she said, grabbing her digital camera. "Hold it a second while I take a picture."

Carlos grumbled a little, but gave in and smiled in response to Stephanie's urging as the camera flashed. She snapped another picture as he was blowing out the candles and then took the cake back to the kitchen, emerging after a few minutes with a gigantic piece on a small plate.

"Babe." Carlos laughed. "You've got half the cake there. We'll never eat all that."

"We?" Stephanie grinned as she plopped down onto his lap. "Oh, I forgot we were sharing. I thought this was just for me."

She forked up a bite and fed it to him. "Mmm, isn't that delicious? It came from the Italian bakery over on Atlantic Avenue."

"Very good." Carlos took the plate and fork from her and began feeding her.

After eating several bites Stephanie pouted. "Hey, you're not eating any."

"I'd rather watch you eat it." Carlos's eyes dilated as she licked her lips, and his cock, already half hard, twitched.

"I have an idea." Stephanie leaned forward and crossed her arms in front of her, grasping the hem of her pale blue shirt and pulling it off over her head. Scooping up a finger of icing she deposited it in the cleavage formed by the blue lace of her bra.

"Babe," Carlos breathed and bent his head to her chest, his tongue snaking out.

Five minutes later frosting was smeared over both of their naked bodies, and they were pulling the sofa bed open.

_oOo_

The air conditioner hummed quietly in the window and the lamp cast a dim golden light over the two gleaming bodies, one caramel, one cream. Panting, covered with a sheen of sweat and not a little sticky, Stephanie and Carlos lay side by side on the bed, the top sheet twisted and hanging off the foot.

"Wow," said Stephanie when her mind finally came staggering back from wherever it goes flying off to during a doomsday orgasm.

"Babe." Carlos rolled up onto his elbow facing her and stroked a hand over her belly, skimming her breasts and on up to cup her cheek, turning her face toward him. "This is the best birthday I've ever had. Thank you."

Stephanie held his eyes. "You're welcome. It was good for me, too, Batman."

With her blue gaze branding his soul, burning her into his heart, Carlos felt something shift in his chest. He'd been with lots of women, starting with the eighteen-year-old girl next door when he was just fourteen. He'd had girlfriends, but never one that lasted even three months.

Stephanie was so different, so special. His feelings for her filled him to bursting.

"Babe, I—"

His declaration was interrupted by a knock on the door.

_TBC_


	44. Stolen 9

**Stolen 9**

Stephanie's chest jerked and her heart leaped into her throat, pounding there like a mad thing.

Her first instinct was to hide. "Shh," she hissed under her breath. "Don't answer it."

Carlos was already on his feet, picking his jeans up from the floor. He kept his voice soft. "It's probably the guys, coming over to bust on me."

The knock came again.

"Just ignore it and maybe they'll go away," Stephanie whispered.

"Maybe Tina forgot something." Carlos pulled his jeans up over his hips and snagged his black t-shirt, tossing it to Stephanie.

At the sound of a key in the lock she yanked the shirt over her head, covering herself just as the door opened.

"…lucky we brought the emergency key. Maybe they're still working." The female voice got louder as the door opened.

"It's ten thirty. They oughta be home soon." A second female voice, one familiar to Stephanie, followed it through the door.

"We should have called—" The first voice broke off with a gasp.

Carlos was at the door, jeans riding low on his hips, zipped but not buttoned, his mocha chest and sharp-cut muscles standing out in bold relief in the light invading from the hall. The two female forms were half in, half out of the apartment.

"May I help you, ladies?" Carlos's voice was deep and husky, sex on a stick and she wanted to eat it up, Stephanie couldn't help but think as she swung off the far edge of the bed. She took a couple steps toward the bedroom, her instincts giving flight precedence over fight.

Crash, crash went two overnight bags, dropped from nerveless fingers at the sight of so much male magnificence, at the gorgeous face, the serious, scary expression.

"Uh…" The first voice made a valiant effort but couldn't form any words.

"We're looking for Stephanie Plum and Tina Rosolli," the familiar voice said, and all Stephanie could think was, shit, shit, _shit._ Pinch me and wake me up from this nightmare.

Just as she reached the bedroom door with some vague plan of dressing quickly, exiting through the window and coming back to the door as if she'd been out., the voice stopped her cold.

"Stephanie Plum, what the hell is going on here?"

Frozen, pink flooding her face, Stephanie thought, omigod, she's turning into Mom.

Carlos turned to Stephanie. "Babe?"

Manners, manners, use your manners, ran through Stephanie's mind, a refrain echoed in her mother's voice. "Carlos," she said, "This is my sister Valerie and Tina's sister Connie. Val, Connie, this is Carlos Manoso, my… friend." She moved farther from the tangled bed, hoping to draw their attention away from it. With great effort she kept her eyes off the big box of condoms and big wad of used tissues on the end table and her blush deepened.

"Pleased to meet you both," Carlos said, extending a hand to shake. Valerie, calm and collected and serene always, shook his hand and responded, "Pleased to meet you." She was a cooler, less intense version of Stephanie, with hair that was a little less curly, eyes that were a little less blue, and skin that was a little less pale.

"I'd have known you're Tina's sister," Carlos said as he shook Connie's hand. "You look just like her."

Connie gasped, "Hi," and began fanning her rosy face the second Carlos let go of her hand. Like Tina, she was short and busty, with medium-length wavy dark hair and friendly brown eyes.

All Stephanie could think was, what the hell were they doing, barging into the apartment as if they owned the place? And why the hell did I ever agree to give my mother a spare key, just in case? Omigod, did I say that out loud, she thought as Valerie answered what she hoped was an unspoken question.

"We ran into Mary Lou in Pino's this noon and she told us about her house," said Valerie. "We figured if she wasn't going to be here tonight we'd stay with you and go to the beach tomorrow."

"Don't you have to work?" Stephanie asked.

"I'm calling in sick." That was just like Valerie to take such a casual attitude toward her job, Stephanie thought, blowing it off so she could go to the beach.

"Do you ladies have any more luggage that needs to be brought up?" asked Carlos.

"We have a basket of stuff and some beach things still in the car," answered Val. Connie was apparently struck dumb, but she managed a nod.

"I'll help you bring them up." Carlos's duffle bag was in the corner behind the door, and he extracted another black t-shirt identical to the one that was covering Stephanie almost to her knees. Pulling it over his head, he escorted the two out into the hall.

The second they were gone, Stephanie turned into a whirling dervish, tearing the sheets off the bed and rolling them up, shoving them with the pillows up onto the closet shelf, stuffing the box of condoms into Carlo's duffle bag. She slammed the bed shut and dropped the cushions back into place. Racing around the room she grabbed the wad of tissues, picked up her clothes from where Carlos had thrown them when the frosting feast commenced and ran into the bathroom. Flushing the tissues, she grabbed a washcloth and swiped some of the remnants of sticky icing from her skin before getting dressed.

By the time Carlos walked through the door carrying a large laundry basket of sheets, towels, lotions and other assorted paraphernalia, Stephanie was standing casually in the door of her bedroom.

"Where's Tina?" asked Valerie, coming into the apartment as if she owned the place, moving her overnight bag to one of the easy chairs and opening it.

"She's out," Stephanie answered. "I'll call her and let her know you guys are here." She turned and went into her bedroom, closing the door so nobody could hear her, and tried to restrain herself from shrieking.

When she reemerged, Valerie was quizzing Carlos, still sounding just like their mother, Stephanie thought, asking him about his family, school, his major, what his plans were for the future.

"Babe." Carlos looked almost panicked under the barrage of questions. "I'd better get going. It's almost eleven and I have to work tomorrow."

"What do you do?" Valerie asked.

"I'll walk you downstairs," Stephanie interjected.

"Nice meeting you, ladies," Carlos said as he and Stephanie left the apartment, closing the door behind them with a sigh of relief.

"Oh, Carlos, I'm so sorry they had to barge in and ruin your birthday." Stephanie's eyes were glistening with moisture and she was wringing her hands in distress.

Carlos led her out the front door and to "their" settee, the site of so many nighttime conversations and explorations. "Come here, Babe." He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping both arms around her and using a hand on the back of her head to draw it down onto his shoulder.

Stephanie buried her face in his neck, a sob choking out in spite of her efforts to control it. "I wanted everything to be perfect," she mumbled.

"I told you it was the best birthday I ever had, and this doesn't change that," Carlos said.

She nuzzled her nose into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his comforting scent of soap and male and birthday cake. "You're sticky," she giggled though her tears, her tongue exploring the sweetness.

A rumbling purr came from deep in his chest and he eased Stephanie's head back so he could see her face. "I'm never going to forget tonight, Babe. It really was perfect." He dug into his pocket and pulled out the bat symbol keychain. "Every time I start my car or unlock my door, I'll remember."

Carlos stood and set Stephanie on her feet, tipping her head back so his lips could meet hers. "Thank you, Babe."

"See you on the beach tomorrow, Batman," she said as he walked down the steps.

She watched him out of sight down the street and then walked back into the house and up the stairs, her steps dragging more and more the closer she got. At the door to her apartment she stopped, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She needed to calm down before going inside so she didn't scream at her smug and judgmental sister.

After a minute she sighed and opened the door, ready to face the music.

_TBC_


	45. Stolen 10

**Stolen 10 **

Stephanie walked into her apartment, muscles tense, back stiff, anticipating a barrage of criticism from Valerie and spoiling for a fight. But all she found was Connie, sitting on the couch clicking through channels on the TV.

"Where's Val?" Stephanie asked.

Connie turned the volume down and at that moment Stephanie heard the sound of flowing water begin in the bathroom. "She's taking a shower," Connie said. "We thought we'd take a walk up on the boards."

Stephanie flopped down on the other end of the couch, arms crossed, feeling a bit of a letdown. Now she'd have to wait until Valerie got out of the shower to blast her.

"Steph," Connie said, "I'm really sorry we barged in on you like this. We wanted to surprise you and Tina. We never expected…" She gave a helpless wave of her arm around the room.

"It's…" Stephanie automatically started to tell Connie it was okay, but stopped because it really wasn't. "Well, it's done now."

"So was that your boyfriend?" Connie asked. "Carlos?"

Stephanie shrugged. "I guess… Kind of… We've been seeing each other for a while."

"There were some rumors going around in the Burg a month or so ago that you were dating a black guy. Is that who they were talking about?" Connie's question seemed casual, but her eyes were bright and inquisitive.

"Yeah," Stephanie said, "except we weren't dating, and he's not black."

"He's gorgeous," Connie said. "That's the best looking guy I think I've ever seen in my life."

"Yeah." There was no disagreeing with that statement.

Connie fanned herself with her hand. "When he came to the door, I thought I was going to pass out."

"Mmm." Stephanie didn't know quite how to respond.

Just as Connie's mouth rounded for the next question, the door slammed open and Tina came skidding through. "Connie!" she almost shouted. "What the hell are you doing here, and why didn't you call first?"

Connie's olive skin darkened. "I'm sorry. We thought it would be fun to surprise you guys."

Tina looked at Stephanie, noting the flushed face and the wild curls escaping the hasty ponytail. "How did the dinner go, Steph?"

"Uh, good. It was good."

"It was Carlos's birthday," Tina told Connie. "Stephanie cooked him dinner."

"Oh, shit." Connie looked even more mortified. "God, Steph, I'm so sorry we barged in like that."

"It's okay, Connie. It'll be okay." Stephanie changed the subject. "So how do you like your new job?"

_oOo_

Twenty minutes later Valerie emerged from the bathroom dressed in navy blue shorts and a hot pink tank top, makeup flawless, hair parted in the center and brushed almost straight, expression serene.

"I'm ready," she said. "Connie, do you want to fix your hair and face before we go?"

With a nod Connie grabbed her overnight bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Hi, Tina, how's it going?" Valerie asked as she lowered herself into one of the easy chairs and crossed her legs, dangling her heeled sandal from the tips of her toes.

"Okay."

Stephanie's anger, banked while she talked to Connie, surged back into searing flames and she scorched Valerie with a look. "Tina." She gestured toward the bedroom. "Could you give us a minute?"

With a nod, Tina scurried through the door and slammed it behind her.

With the fury blazing in her voice Stephanie burst out, "What the hell were you thinking, barging in here without calling first?" She was way too upset to sit, and she jumped to her feet and began pacing. "This is _my_ place and you had no right to come in without an invitation. That's just plain _rude._"

In spite of being seated while Stephanie was standing Valerie managed to look down her nose at her. "There was no way we could anticipate what was going on here," she said, her tone superior. "I'd never have expected that kind of behavior from you, of all people. You were raised better than that."

At Stephanie's scowl, she held up both hands in appeasement. "I didn't even know you had a boyfriend." She raised a tweezed eyebrow, her voice icy. "At least I hope he's your boyfriend, and not just some… guy."

Stephanie couldn't subdue a shriek of righteous rage. She wanted to throttle her, and a vivid vision of bulging eyes, purple face and protruding tongue compelled her hands to reach out toward Valerie's neck.

The look on Stephanie's face drove Valerie to her feet and had her backing away, hands up to ward off the potential attack. "Look," she said, "I'm sorry we interrupted. But we had no way of knowing. We knocked. Twice. We thought you weren't here, so we came in. What else could we have done?"

"You could have fucking _called!"_

In the face of so much heat Valerie's cool fled and her face crumpled. "I'm sorry, Steph. Really, really sorry. Please forgive me."

The apology was like a splash of cold water dousing Stephanie's flames. The anger burned out as fast as it had sparked. "Okay."

As she flounced to her bedroom, Stephanie turned and looked back over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. "Oh, and if you're even thinking about telling Mom, just remember, I know all about you and Steve." A complete lie, but Val didn't know that, and the look of horror on her face told Stephanie she'd hit it dead on. She turned her back and walked through the door, closing it behind her with a click.

_oOo_

The events of the day whirled and swirled in Stephanie's brain as she sat on the couch and tried to watch an old black-and-white film on the classic movie channel. She'd remained behind while Tina accompanied Valerie and Connie up to the boardwalk, cutting herself another huge piece of birthday cake for comfort. But the taste of the cake, the texture of the icing, took her mind back to earlier, dragging her down with melancholy as she thought of how the perfect birthday had ended.

As if the product of some kind of omnipotent radar, her cell phone rang, and her anguish eased when she viewed the display.

She pushed the green connect button. "Hey, Batman."

"Hey, Babe. You okay?" Carlos's deep voice brought Stephanie an instant visual of his dark eyes, filled with concern and caring.

"Yeah." If disappointed and depressed was okay, then she was all over it, Stephanie thought.

"You alone?"

"Yeah. Everyone else went up to the boards for a while."

Stephanie felt that little buzz on the back of her neck that told her Carlos was nearby. "Where are you?" she asked, setting the cake down on the end table and rising.

"Are you going to let me in?" There was a smile in his voice, and Stephanie yanked open the door to reveal that smile in the flesh. Her sadness evaporated in a flash, leaving behind only joy as she flung herself into his arms, her head tipping back just in time to meet his descending mouth.

Kicking the door shut Carlos held Stephanie, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around him. "I couldn't go to sleep without you," he murmured against her mouth, his voice raspy with desire.

Her teeth sank into his lower lip, nipping and pulling, teasing a groan from deep in his chest. "Me neither," she whispered. "I need you."

Supporting Stephanie with one arm, Carlos squatted to grab his duffle bag from its semi-permanent spot behind the door and straightened, his easy strength making her feel weak in comparison. He carried her into the bedroom, kicking that door shut as well, dropping the duffle bag beside the bed.

When he tried to lay her down, she clung tight, need clawing in her throat, in her chest. He felt it, responded, lust slapping hard with the scrape of her teeth down his neck.

Their coupling was frantic, ferocious, out of control. Her frenzied mewling spurred him to ruthless plundering. His fervent groans ignited her to shocking arousal.

And they blasted into the stratosphere together, as one.

_TBC_


	46. Stolen 11

**Stolen 11**

_Two weeks later, Friday morning_

Soft dawn light shone through the early morning mists of the shore, turning the inside of the bedroom to pearl. The quiet beep-beep of Carlos's watch awoke Stephanie in the luminescence, and she stretched and snuggled against his smooth skin and solid bulk. He was hard all over, and she swung her leg up and around, pressing her center against him.

It was their last morning to wake up together. Tina's classes at Mercer County College had started on Monday so she'd been in Trenton all week, but she was coming back to Point Pleasant this afternoon to work the busy Labor Day weekend. Back to share the room so Carlos couldn't stay over.

Stephanie's own classes began on Tuesday in New Brunswick, and Carlos's in Newark. She didn't want to think about it, her capacity for denial keeping the impending separation locked away deep in her subconscious until now.

As his mouth worked its way down her neck and covered her breast every thought flew away like the shore birds migrating south, and she surrendered herself to the pleasure of his touch.

After, they lay close together, hands stroking and soothing.

"Time for my run, Babe," Carlos said, dropping a kiss on Stephanie's forehead and swinging his feet to sit up on the side of the narrow bed.

The thought that this was the last time she'd hear him say that filled her eyes with tears, and she rolled toward the wall and curled up as if she were going back to sleep. She could hear Carlos pulling on his shorts and t-shirt, and he sat back down on the edge of the bed to don socks and running shoes, his butt firm against her back.

Stephanie's cheeks were wet and her nose filled up so that she had to open her mouth to breathe. She tried not to make a sound, but Carlos must have somehow felt her distress, maybe heard the change in her breathing. He lay back down and curled around her back, his warmth surrounding her along with his arms.

"What's wrong, Babe?" His voice was all concern.

"Nothing," Stephanie answered, muffled and watery.

Carlos lifted her and rolled her back toward him, her resistance futile against the might of his muscles. The sight of the tears running unchecked down her face twisted inside his chest. "The truth, Stephanie."

His use of her name told her how serious he was. "It's stupid," she muttered, trying to bury her face in his neck, but he wouldn't let her, his hand firm on the back of her head.

His eyes, the warm, sweet color of Kahlua, bored into hers. "Tell me."

"I'm just sad the summer's over," she said, swiping the tears from her cheeks and trying to regain control.

"It's not over yet, Babe," he told her. "We've still got the weekend." He kissed the dampness under each eye. "And speaking of the weekend, there's a big end-of-summer bash at Mac's tomorrow night. Julio and Les want to go celebrate. Will you go with me?"

Stephanie perked up a little. "You mean like a date?"

"Yeah."

"I have to work until ten."

"That's okay, so do Les and Julio. The real fun won't start until midnight anyway." His lips caressed hers. "Will you go with me?"

"Sure."

He rolled away and off the edge of the bed, landing on his feet light as a cat. "Okay, then. I'll be back around eight for breakfast if you're up."

"I'll be up," she promised.

_oOo_

_The next evening, Saturday_

Stephanie, Mary Lou and Tina walked out of Crabster's with Lester, Julio and Lenny, heading down Third Street with them for one of the last times. Carlos met them in the parking lot and swung into step beside Stephanie, putting his arm around her shoulders as they walked together. In black jeans and a black silk dress shirt open at his elegant throat, cuffs turned up to just below the elbows to reveal those smooth, well developed forearms, he was so hot he took Stephanie's breath away.

"So you guys are leaving Monday night?" Tina asked Lester.

"Tuesday morning." He tried to maintain his cool but couldn't disguise the pure joy. "We have to report to Fort Jackson on Thursday. We're going home to see our folks on Tuesday and Carlos is driving us down to South Carolina on Wednesday."

"Aren't you supposed to start classes on Tuesday?" Mary Lou asked Carlos.

His expression went flat. "I'll cut."

Carlos felt Stephanie studying his face, but he kept his eyes straight ahead. He'd already decided he wasn't going to any classes the first week, and he was going to stay away from his parents' house as well. With school starting up again, the chance of running into someone he'd rather avoid increased exponentially.

Mario Vargas, the guy who'd recruited him for the DeCalvas during his freshman year, was still registered at Rutgers Newark, and Carlos wouldn't be surprised to find he already had Carlos's class schedule for the semester. The thought of getting hauled in for a "conversation" with one of the DeCalvas scared the crap out of him. And if they should see him with Stephanie… The possibilities were beyond bearing, far too great a risk to take.

Mary Lou's voice addressing Lester and Julio drew his attention back to the conversation. "I hope you'll keep in touch, let us know how basic goes."

"Absolutely," Julio said, his eyes going to Stephanie.

Lester nodded in agreement. "And you'll have to send us wedding pictures."

"Will you have access to email during basic?" Tina asked.

"No," Lester said, "Only snail mail. And we only get a half hour a day of personal time, except for Sundays."

"Jeez," Mary Lou said, "I'm going to be all by myself down here for the next month, at least during the week." She was taking the semester off from college because of her upcoming wedding and remaining in Point Pleasant for the month of September to work at Crabster's.

"Uncle Tommy asked me if I could still work weekends with you guys since it's not that far from New Brunswick," Stephanie said. "I thought if I could find a ride here and back from school I'd like to do that, at least through September while you're still here." She grimaced. "I didn't save as much as I hoped over the summer, so I could really use the money."

"That's no problem," Mary Lou said. "Lenny's going to come down for the weekends and bring Tina with him. If you can get the train from New Brunswick to Trenton on Friday afternoon he could bring you down Friday night and take you back early Monday morning."

"That sounds great. I'm done at two on Fridays, so I could be in Trenton by three." Stephanie felt Carlos relax beside her and peeked at him from the corner of her eye. His face remained expressionless, and she wondered what was bothering him.

By this time they'd reached Green Street.

"We'll be back in a half hour," Lester said as he and Julio walked on toward their room.

"No hurry," said Tina with a smile. "With three of us needing to shower and only one bathroom, it'll be a while before we're ready."

Lester grinned back at her. "Better put on your dancing shoes, honey, because I'm geared up for a celebration."

Stephanie looked at Carlos again as they climbed the stairs. Face still blank. She wanted nothing more that to get him alone, to make him tell her what was wrong. She wondered if tonight would be the last time she saw him, and it was like a knife twisting in her gut.

She had to stop thinking about it. "First dibs on the shower," she said as they walked into the apartment.

_TBC_


	47. Stolen 12

**Stolen 12**

Stephanie took one last look at herself in the cloudy mirror on the back of her bedroom door. "Do I look okay?" she asked Tina.

"You look terrific," Tina said. "Blue is definitely your color."

Stephanie was wearing a new body-skimming spaghetti-strap dress in the azure of the Caribbean Sea, at least the color she'd seen it in pictures. Silver sandals with four-inch heels added to the tall, slim look. She'd managed to tame her hair with a special serum she was trying out for the first time, and it hung halfway down her back in soft, loose curls.

She peered into the mirror. "Maybe another coat of mascara…"

"No, Steph, your face is perfect. Any more would be too much."

Stephanie turned around and took a good look at her friend. "Wow, that dress is awesome! You look like something out of a movie." The pale yellow strapless dress hugged at the top and flared out at the bottom, accentuating Tina's abundant curves and setting off her deep tan to perfection. "Lester's going to fall prostrate at your feet when he sees you."

"Yeah. Too bad he's leaving for the Army and all," Tina said, looking wistful for a moment before shrugging it off. "Oh, well, it's been a great summer."

"Yeah." Stephanie forced a smile to disguise the ache in her heart as they opened the door into the living room.

Carlos rose from the couch as she came out, and the look on his face when he saw her blew the sadness right out of her. His Greek god lips parted and his thick-lashed brown eyes darkened to almost black, an irresistible force drawing her into his arms.

"Babe, you're beautiful," he murmured into her ear as he held her, his lips trailing from the side of her neck across her jawline and ending at her mouth. The shock of his tongue touching hers shot fire deep into her belly, and her knees turned to Jello, only the strength of his arms keeping her from melting into a quavering puddle on the floor.

"All right, you two, break it up." Lester's pointed comment brought the kiss to a reluctant end, though Stephanie had to hold tight to Carlos's shoulders for a few moments, and he kept his hands firm at her waist until her legs would hold her again.

"Is everyone ready?" asked Mary Lou, coming out of the bathroom.

Lenny rocketed to her side "Wow, honey, you're one hot mama." It was true. Mary Lou's full-skirted red dress and matching heels gave her the look of a tropical bird, ready to take flight and dance through the sky. Lenny swung her around in a circle, saying, "Ready to go dancing, my way?"

"Ooh, baby, I love your way," she responded. "Let's go."

_oOo_

Mac's was wall to wall people. It appeared that everyone in Point Pleasant was out for one last hurrah before summer was over.

As soon as they got inside Carlos pulled Stephanie toward the dance floor. She barely had time to hand her small, silver evening bag to Mary Lou before she was in his arms, packed in among the other sardines, twirling and spinning and bumping to a heavy beat. It was too noisy to talk, but their gaze never left each other.

I'm so in love with him, Stephanie thought, adrift in the dark sea of his eyes. She'd finally admitted it to herself. She knew life wasn't a fairy tale, but her natural optimism kept popping up telling her things would work out. Maybe they wouldn't see so much of each other, but Newark was only about a half hour from New Brunswick. Maybe they could find a way to be together on the weekends.

Not at her place though, she thought, now ruing the fact that she'd be sharing a two-bedroom apartment with three other girls from her freshman floor. Last spring when they'd planned the living arrangements for this year it seemed like it was going to be so much fun to share the apartment with her friends. Now she just wished she had a private bedroom so Carlos could stay over with her sometimes. She wondered if he was going to move back in with his parents for the school year or if he'd find an apartment or a room.

Carlos watched the play of emotions over Stephanie's face, her thoughts clear in her crystal eyes. There was no denying it anymore. He was in love with her, and he knew she loved him, too. He'd really known since the day he met her, even before that, since the first moment he saw her standing there on the boardwalk laughing. Even then it had been obvious that there was something between them, something destined.

He didn't know how the fall was going to play out, how he was going to manage to avoid or overcome his past, but he'd just have to find a way. Even if it meant his career strategy, his blueprint for the future had to be adjusted. His impressive intelligence, his faultless logic, his well conceived plans—they were all useless. He was defenseless against the knowledge in his heart. He belonged to her, and she to him.

An hour later the group had managed to appropriate a table in the corner of the room and sat enjoying the round of drinks delivered by the waitress, so harried she'd barely glanced at the fake IDs. Stephanie was curled up on Carlos's lap sipping a blue moon martini, the comfort of his arms making everything better, easing her troubled mind.

A slower song began and Julio, next to them, leaned over. "Steph, would you dance with me?" His inquiring eyes followed Stephanie's to Carlos, and at his nod they rose and walked hand in hand onto the dance floor.

Stephanie relaxed into Julio's embrace, swaying to the soulful beat, laying her head on his shoulder. He smelled like Carlos, and though he was still thinner, his body had the same feel against hers.

"I'm going to miss you," Julio said after a moment.

Stephanie lifted her head so she could look into his eyes, warm and brown, so much like the eyes she loved. "I'll miss you, too, Hoo. But I'm so proud of you, that you've done so well this summer. And happy that you're going after your dream."

Julio's smile was a beacon, illuminating up the dance floor. "Me, too." And then his face turned serious again. "Steph, will you keep in touch, email or write to me?"

"Of course," she answered with a smile. "I want to hear all about boot camp."

"Carlos isn't good at that," Julio said, "so you'll have to do it for him, let me know what he's up to."

Stephanie's smile faded. "Sure, if I know."

"Of course you'll know," Julio said. "You don't think just because the summer's over that you and Carlos are over, do you?"

"I don't know," Stephanie admitted. "We haven't talked about it."

Julio held her eyes. "He's in love with you, Steph, ass over eyeballs. I've never seen him like this over a girl before." He brushed his lips across her forehead. "But if you ever decided to give him the boot, I'd be glad to step in."

They both glanced over to where Carlos was sitting watching them, and when his eyes met Stephanie's he smiled. He leaned forward, as if to rise, but all of a sudden there was a slim blonde figure in a very short, very tight, emerald green dress standing next to him, her hand stroking his arm and shoulder. Ashley, the blonde bimbo lifeguard.

Crap, Stephanie thought.

_TBC_


	48. Stolen 13

**Stolen 13**

Carlos sat and watched Julio dancing with Stephanie. It was obvious to him that Julio loved her, though Carlos knew with dead certainty that Julio would never try to make a move on her. And how could Carlos blame him for loving her? She was beautiful, but more than that, she was caring, giving, open… She had a kind of glow, an aura that drew people to her.

It was just as obvious that Stephanie cared about Julio. It warmed his heart to know that the two most important people in his life, his little brother and his woman, were so close. Carlos had deliberately separated himself from his family when he got involved in the DeCalva business two years ago. He loved his parents, his older brother Eduardo, his four sisters and Julio, but he couldn't let his criminal contacts know that. So he'd cut himself off from family, only seeing them a couple times a year, keeping them out of the danger zone.

Until Julio, looking to emulate him, got hooked on meth.

Julio kissed Stephanie on the forehead and they both looked at Carlos. They were talking about him, he thought, and he smiled. He decided to go over there and cut in, swoop Stephanie away. This was their evening and he needed to hold her.

But just as he leaned forward to rise, Ashley appeared.

"Hey, Carlos, having a good time?" She ran her hand up his arm and her fingers traced his shoulder muscles.

He hadn't seen much of Ashley the last month or so. Once he made his affection for Stephanie clear, Ashley had backed off, a relief. Not that he had any objections to being pursued by women. It had happened with monotonous regularity since he was in junior high, and he'd always been quick to take advantage of the opportunity to satisfy his physical needs whenever the urge struck him.

But since he met Stephanie, he didn't want any other women.

He rose. "Excuse me."

"Wait a second." Ashley slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow. "I need to talk with you about work."

"What?" Carlos growled, looking pointedly at her hand on his arm, his expression blank and yet somehow threatening, until she squirmed and removed it.

"Mike's having problems lining up guards for September. Since you'll be so close, is there any chance you could continue to work weekends?"

Carlos's mind, so quick at evaluation, analysis and decision making, zipped through the pros and cons. "Yeah," he decided, realizing the fact that Stephanie would still be here weekends carried the decision. "That would be okay."

"I'm leaving for my parents' after work tomorrow, heading for school Monday morning." Ashley's hand was back on his arm. "I'll let Mike know, but you should see him tomorrow or Monday to confirm."

Carlos nodded, brushed her hand off and walked onto the dance floor, only interested in Stephanie. He tapped Julio on the shoulder. "Need my woman back, bro." And he pulled Stephanie into his arms.

_oOo_

"Good night, guys," Stephanie said, rising to her toes to kiss Julio and Lester on their cheeks. "See you tomorrow, well later today."

The group stood on the front porch of the big white house, keeping their voices low due to the lateness, or rather earliness of the hour.

Stephanie turned to Carlos. "Thanks for a lovely evening. It was just perfect. But now you'd better go get some sleep. You've gotta be on the beach at nine, don't you?"

He wrapped his arms around her, his lips dropping to hers. The kiss possessed her, took her over, and Stephanie couldn't hold back a moan as his taste filled her to overflowing, his hands moved up and down her back, his erection rose against her belly. She wanted him, wanted to make love with him, to sleep in his arms, to wake up with him, to stay with him.

Loud throat clearing finally invaded the lost world of the kiss, and it was with reluctance that Carlos released her. He had to clear his throat to make his voice work. "I'll see you tomorrow, Babe." He pressed one more quick kiss on her lips and walked off with Julio and Lester.

"So have you and Carlos talked about what's going to happen after Monday?" asked Mary Lou as the three girls and Lenny walked up the stairs. "Are you still going to see each other?"

Stephanie shook her head. "We haven't talked about it. I don't know." Her heart ached more and more each time she said goodbye to Carlos, thinking each time that it might be the last. But at least tonight he said he'd see her tomorrow.

"Steph," Tina said, "Carlos isn't much of a talker. If he hasn't said anything yet, maybe he's waiting for you to bring it up."

"I don't think so," Stephanie answered. Carlos was a great one for hiding his feelings, but she'd learned to read him pretty well over the summer. Something was bothering him, and she thought it probably had to do with going back to school and the bad things he'd been involved in there. Although he hadn't given her a lot of details, she knew he didn't want that life anymore, that he was hiding from his former associates. But he wanted the business degree, the MBA. It was an impossible situation. And she didn't want to add to his worries by trying to push him into a decision about their relationship.

"I think I'll wait and see," she decided. "If he hasn't said anything by Monday night when we're all leaving, then I might ask him."

_oOo_

_Two days later, Monday night_

Stephanie's heart puffed with relief when she spied Carlos waiting in the parking lot after work Monday night. He'd walked her home Sunday night, even stayed at their apartment along with Lester and Julio to watch a movie, but had kept his own counsel, saying very little and not mentioning the future. After the movie she'd walked him downstairs, but with Julio and Lester waiting there was no opportunity to talk. She'd climbed out the window and sat on the porch roof for a long time after Tina was asleep, but Carlos didn't return.

Now she was leaving, going back to Trenton tonight with Lenny, Mary Lou and Tina so that her mom could drive her to school Tuesday morning.

"We'll help you pack up the truck," Lester offered.

"Thanks, but there's not very much," Stephanie said. "I'm leaving some of my things here since I'll be back Friday afternoon to work the dinner shift. And Mary Lou's stuff stays here, since she's coming back Wednesday. So there's only a suitcase and one box of my stuff. Besides," she added, "shouldn't you guys get home and get some sleep? I thought you were leaving early tomorrow."

"Not that early," Julio said, "but Wednesday we'll be leaving for South Carolina at five a.m. Gotta get used to being up at the ass-crack of dawn." He couldn't suppress a huge grin.

Stephanie's things were all packed, and it only took a few minutes to load them in the back of Lenny's pickup truck.

"Well, guys, this is it," said Mary Lou. "Good luck in boot camp, or break a leg, or whatever you say."

Lester winced. "Not break a leg, please."

"Be sure to keep in touch," Tina said.

"Come here, sweetheart," Lester said, pulling her away from the others.

Carlos took Stephanie's hand and walked her a few steps in the opposite direction, then turned and enfolded her tight against his hard body. Her arms were between them and she allowed her fingers to memorize his abs, trace their way up his pecs, her eyes filling with tears as she tried to absorb every familiar nook and cranny of him into her heart. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling that familiar essence deep into her soul.

Carlos used a hand to tip her face up to his. "What's wrong, Babe?"

The tears overflowed her eyes and ran unabated down her cheeks. "Nothing."

His eyes, shadowed and unreadable in the dark, studied her face. "I'm sad, too, that summer's over, that the guys are leaving. But I'm also happy for them, that they're going after their dream."

Stephanie nodded, and her voice was teary. "Me, too. But I'm going to miss you all so much. Take care driving. It's a long ways."

"I will." Carlos brushed his lips over hers, sweet and tender. "Bye, Babe. I'll call you when I get back."

"Really?" Surprise and joy flooded Stephanie's chest and raised a lump in her throat.

Carlos's smile was incandescent, and the tilt of his head allowed the porch light to illuminate the warmth, the love in his eyes. "Really."

**TBC in Part 5—Rooftops and Invitations**


	49. Rooftops and Invitations 1

**Part 5—Rooftops and Invitations**

_She just might get you lost  
And she just might leave you torn  
But she just might save your soul  
If she gets you any closer_

_—Chris Carrabba_

1

_Four days later, Friday afternoon_

"Have you heard from Carlos? Is he back yet?"

Stephanie's heart, already raw, sent out a jagged serration of pain, filling her chest, her throat, trying to fill her eyes with tears. She fought it, willing the tears not to appear and let everyone know how heartbroken she was.

She really didn't want to talk about Carlos. But she had to answer Tina's question. It would be rude not to, and if her mother had taught her one thing, over and over again, it was to always mind your manners.

"I haven't heard anything."

There, that didn't sound teary, or pitiful, like she was pining over some guy who screwed her and left, some… _Morelli._

"Oh," Tina's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "I was hoping to get a report on Les and Julio, how things went for them."

Stephanie tossed her big tote bag into the bed of Lenny's pickup truck and climbed into one of the little jumpseats behind the passenger seats. Not a very comfortable way to ride to Point Pleasant, but nowhere near as painful as what she was feeling inside.

"So how did everything go this week?" Tina asked as she squirmed into the other jumpseat, alternating her legs with Stephanie's so they'd both fit in without banging knees. It was really tight squeezing both of them in the child-sized space.

Mary Lou finished buckling into the front seat and shifted so she could see Stephanie, behind the driver's seat. "Yeah, tell us everything. How's the apartment?"

"Crowded," Stephanie told her. "But good. I think I'm going to like rooming with Amy, and Gina and Bunny are real easy to get along with, too." She changed the subject, wanting to shift attention away from herself, trying to hide how miserable she was. "How are things at the restaurant, Lou?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old. Seafood platters and fish fry sandwiches." Mary Lou shook her head.

"How come you're here? Weren't you scheduled to work at noon?" Tina asked.

"Had to come back for a fitting for my dress, so I'm going in at five with you guys."

"Omigod," Stephanie said, "the dress is in? Tell us everything."

"It's just perfect. _But…_"

_oOo_

"Boy, it's weird here without Les and Julio," Tina commented, standing next to Stephanie in the service area at Crabster's, both of them fixing salads and dishing up soup. "I guess I'm spoiled, but I didn't realize how much work they did."

"Yeah," Stephanie agreed, "I really hate having to bus my own tables."

"Well, at least we don't have to share our tips with anyone." Mary Lou, the glass-half-full optimist popped in just in time to hear Stephanie's statement.

"I think I'd just as soon share," Stephanie muttered as she swung her tray onto her shoulder and sashayed out to the dining room, slapping on the smile that she knew would get her the best tips.

She didn't feel much like smiling. She'd expected Carlos home last night. She waited all evening for him to call. Even if he was going to be late, she figured he'd call on the way so she'd know he was coming. But no call, no word. Nothing.

Inside her chest was a little ice ball of fear. What if there'd been an accident? Pileups on the interstate weren't unheard of, and it had poured all day yesterday, the outer bands of a hurricane that paralleled the coast and dumped buckets all over the Eastern seaboard. She'd watched the news at every possible opportunity, and there hadn't been anything about any major accidents, just the weather, over and over again. She was afraid if Carlos had an accident she wouldn't ever hear about it. Nobody in his family even knew she existed.

Except Julio. Julio would let her know, she decided. He'd call her, though maybe not right away. The thought of finding out days later that Carlos had been killed made it hard to maintain the smile, keep up the friendly chatter with her customers.

The other agonizing thought that had been plaguing her all day floated to the surface. What if Carlos just didn't want to see her anymore? Her thoughts went back to Monday evening. "I'll call you," he'd said. Isn't that what guys always said, whether they had any intention of calling or not? Maybe it was just a brush-off line. Thanks for the sex. I'll call you. Sure. Right.

By the time they made it back to the big white house on Green Street, Stephanie had worked up a boatload of righteous anger. How dare he, she thought. That bastard. He's no better than Joseph Morelli. Sure, he hung around for the whole summer being nice to her, but really, what was so different about it? He'd fucked her and left her, same exact thing, just took longer doing it.

She wondered if there was something wrong with her, something in her personality that pushed guys away. Why did they keep doing this to her?

Tina must have felt something of the waves of fury and pain emanating from Stephanie as the trio took turns showering and changing after work. She was sitting on her bed when Stephanie came back from her shower.

"Hey, Steph, maybe you should give Carlos a call," she suggested.

"No, he said he'd call me when he got back." Stephanie made a valiant effort to keep the anger and agony out of her voice, doing her best to sound casual and matter-of-fact. "He might be driving, and I don't want him to be distracted by the phone if he is."

Tina rose and grabbed her robe and towel, pausing before she left the room. "But I thought he was dropping the guys off yesterday morning. Shouldn't he have been back last night?"

"Well," Stephanie voiced her most hopeful thought, "the weather was horrendous. Maybe he stopped somewhere to wait it out when it got bad."

Tina shook her head. "Even if he did, he'd have been home by now. Did you check your voicemail?"

Only about a hundred times. "Yeah. Nothing."

"Call him, Steph," Tina advised as she left the room.

_oOo_

Stephanie lay in bed watching the play of moonlight across her white sheet as the sheer curtains fluttered from the ocean breeze. It was starting to cool off a bit at night. Not much, but the worst of the summer heat was behind them.

She was wearing her usual white camisole and boy shorts for bed, but after Tina snuggled in and rolled over to face the wall Stephanie got back up and went to her dresser, digging in the back of the bottom drawer for one of the three XL black t-shirts she now possessed. Two of them were in her apartment in New Brunswick, both needing to be washed since she'd been wearing them to bed every night since Carlos left.

This was the last one he'd given her, just a week ago, the last night he'd slept here in this bed with her. He'd come back from his run, droplets of perspiration decorating that perfect chest, bronzed skin smooth and glistening, and picked up the t-shirt from where it lay on the top of his duffel bag.

"Here, Babe," he said, tossing it on the bed where she lay naked under the sheet, still damp and sated from his lovemaking. "I'm going to take a shower. You getting up for breakfast?"

"Uh, huh, in a minute." She was sleepy still, but she wanted to spend every possible minute with him this last morning together.

She'd put on the black shirt after he left the room and gotten up to make him coffee. When she got dressed later on, she'd just folded the shirt up and stuffed it in the back of her drawer.

It still carried his scent, soap and spice and sex, and as she pulled it over her head the inhaled essence brought tears to her eyes. Oh, God, how was she going to survive without him?

She grabbed a handful of tissues and clamped them over her mouth to stifle the first sob, not wanting to wake Tina. Leaving her cell phone on the nightstand she edged up the screen and climbed out onto the porch roof, sidling as far from the window as she could get before giving in to the tears.

_TBC_


	50. Rooftops and Invitations 2

**Rooftops and Invitations 2**

Carlos crossed the border from North Carolina into Virginia and watched for exit signs. He'd been driving for ten hours, stopping only once for gas and a cup of coffee. He was tired, hungry, and he had to pee.

Near as he could figure, it was still another six or seven hours to Point Pleasant. Home, he thought, Stephanie. ETA somewhere around midnight.

He thought about calling her, letting her know he was on his way. He'd thought about calling her every day, almost every hour. He missed her. The nights were the hardest. Especially when he was lying in bed, lumpy mattresses in cheap motels doing nothing to inhibit the hard-on that wouldn't go away. Even after jerking himself off, thoughts of her pale skin and slender curves made his blood pulse and his thighs quiver.

But he hadn't called her. He didn't know what to say. He loved her, but she didn't know that, and he didn't want to tell her over the phone. He wasn't much of a conversationalist, and Stephanie knew that. They'd only talked on the phone a few times, and then only to impart information, when he'd pick her up, where they'd meet, things like that. Not just to talk.

He wondered how her classes had been, how she was settling into her apartment at school. Maybe he'd call her when he stopped to eat. Just to let her know he'd be there late tonight.

He should have driven back to New Jersey yesterday. But there was a coastal storm that would have made driving really nasty. And South Carolina was right next to Georgia, so he'd extracted Tank's card from his wallet and called. He ended up at Fort Benning, Georgia, a huge place, and very impressive.

Tank looked different in uniform, even bigger if that was possible. He'd given Carlos the grand tour and then bought him dinner, still pitching the military, telling Carlos again that he was Ranger material, officer material.

It was tempting. It would be a way to get the monkey that was the DeCalva family off his back. But he had his plans for the future. An MBA and a job in Manhattan. Money, success, prestige, power. You wouldn't find those things in the military. And besides, there was Stephanie…

So he'd thanked Tank for the dinner, shook his hand and bid him goodbye, promising to give Tank's best to Stephanie and the girls.

He watched the exits. Emporia, Virginia. There'd be places to eat, to get gas there. The highways signs advertised Shoney's, Cracker Barrel, McDonald's, Pizza Hut. Nothing healthy in sight. He sighed and took the exit. He'd fill up with gas and maybe someone could recommend a restaurant that appealed to him.

_oOo_

At eleven-thirty Carlos drove into Point Pleasant and down Ocean Avenue, his whole body revved with the effort of staying awake, his vision still echoing the dotted line flashing by hour after hour after hour. He was exhausted and yet keyed up, both from the long drive and from the anticipation of seeing Stephanie.

He decided not to call her. She was probably already in bed, and he didn't want to wake her. He slowed as he passed his rooming house, and then accelerated, finding it impossible to wait any longer to see her, to feel the softness of her skin against his. If she was asleep he'd just slide in behind her as he'd done so many times that summer and stay until the first light of dawn. In all the nights he'd crept into their bedroom, Tina had never awakened. But Stephanie would know he was there. She always did, even if she didn't really wake up.

He turned onto Green Street, noting the abundance of parking spots. The summer season was over for sure, he thought, his eyes on the big white house as he pulled to the curb across the street. No lights on. Everyone was probably in bed.

He looked up at Stephanie's window and spotted a dark figure huddled on the porch roof, knees pulled up to the chest underneath the black t-shirt, pale arms wrapped around the legs. He saw the head tip to the side, eyes so blue he could almost see them lighting up the night, staring at his SUV, reeling him in the moment he opened the door.

In a matter of seconds he'd scaled the trellis and was on the roof beside Stephanie, his arms tight around her, his mouth covering hers.

Home.

_oOo_

Stephanie heard the sound of the car turning onto Green Street and raised her head from its resting place on her knees. She'd cried herself out and was just sitting there trying to generate the energy to crawl back through the window and into her lonely bed.

Goosebumps crawled over her flesh even before she could see the shape of the vehicle enough to know that it was a dark SUV. She knew without doubt who it was, and a shiver rippled up her spine as she watched it park across the street. Carlos looked exhausted, she thought, judging from the stiffness of his movements as he got out of the car. But then, quick as a cat, he was with her, his lips seeking hers, his tongue probing. She surrendered to his mouth, his hands.

After a long time Carlos tore his mouth away. "Let's go to my place." His whisper was rough, urgent.

"I can't just leave in the middle of the night," Stephanie whispered back. "They'll be worried about me when they wake up."

"Write them a note. And bring some clothes for morning."

Responding to the desire, the need in his dark eyes, Stephanie gave a quick nod and disappeared through the window. She took her big handbag into the bathroom and dug out an old pay stub and a pen, scribbling a quick note on the back. "Carlos is home. I'm at his place. See you in the morning."

Stuffing her hair brush and gel into her bag, adding her toothbrush, she turned off the light and scurried back into the bedroom, pulling the sheet and blanket up to cover her bed and leaving the note on top. It only took a moment to ram her feet into her Sketchers and grab clothes and clean underwear, rolling it up and adding it to the big canvas hobo.

"Okay," she whispered as she climbed back out the window and lowered it with care, leaving it open just a crack to the fresh night breeze. Carlos closed the screen and took her bag, waiting on the trellis for her to climb down with him, his hard body skimming her back.

It was all he could manage to stay within the speed limit as they drove the four blocks to his room. And then they got inside and were greeted with the bare mattresses. Les and Julio had stripped the bunk beds and taken the sheets home to their moms.

In spite of his longing for the silky slide of Stephanie's skin against his, Carlos gestured to the couch. "Sit for a minute, Babe, while I make the bed."

Stephanie watched him remove sheets from a drawer and fit them on the bottom bunk with quick, economical precision. His t-shirt clung to his perfect physique, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his magnificent ass as he bent over, reaching across to straighten the side against the wall.

The second he was finished she was up and wrapped around him, her teeth sinking into the tendon on the side of his neck. With a groan he picked her up and laid her on the bed, lowering himself on top of her.

_TBC_


	51. Rooftops and Invitations 3

Rooftops and Invitations 3

_The next morning, Saturday_

"Wake up, Babe." Carlos knelt beside the bed and buried his face in the crook of Stephanie's neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

A spark of desire flickered in her belly, and she ran her hands up and down the smooth bare skin of his torso, slippery with sweat. He must have already gone running. "Whuh time's it?" she mumbled against the soft silk of his hair.

"Seven thirty. Do you want to get up and have breakfast with me before I have to leave for work?"

"Mmm, yeah," Stephanie said, hauling him into the narrow bed on top of her and using his momentum to roll him over and past her until his back rammed against the wall. "I'll have you for breakfast."

She scooted away from him, tugging until he was on his back in the center of the bed and used both hands on his running shorts, sliding them down until he could kick them off. She swung her leg over and rose to her knees, straddling him.

"Ouch." The back of her head banged against the top bunk. When she tried to duck back down, out popped a squeak of pain. "Omigod, my hair is caught."

She reached up, trying to pull loose, but her curls were tangled in the springs that held the upper mattress, and her attempts to free herself only made it worse.

Carlos sat up and slipped out from beneath her, surveying her imprisoned naked body. "You know, Babe, I could really take advantage of you in that position." He dipped his head down between her legs, tongue flicking, making her moan.

She gripped the springs on each side of her head, back arched, as he licked his way up her body. After capturing her mouth in a lingering liplock, he applied himself to her predicament. His quick, clever fingers soon had her free, and he guided her back down so she was reclined on the lower bunk.

As she reached to pull him down on top of her, she banged her elbow against the wall, exclaiming, "Ouch!"

"I think we're going to need a bigger bed, Babe." And then his mouth came down on hers and nothing else mattered.

An hour later they were sitting across from each other at the dining table in the corner of the room eating Cheerios with low fat milk, both smiling.

"What are your hours today?" Carlos asked, his melted chocolate eyes watching Stephanie tear open another sugar packet and sprinkle it over her cereal. Lester and Julio had left a hoard of supplies—sugar, Sweet 'n' Low, little cups of half and half, two-cracker packs of saltines, half-empty bottles of ketchup and other staples filched from the restaurant.

"Noon to nine, well, as soon after nine as I can get rid of everyone. They're closing an hour earlier now that the season's over. They shut down completely in the middle of October and Uncle Tommy goes to Florida for the winter."

"I'll pick you up at nine. Maybe you should pack some things so you can stay here tonight, too."

Happiness filled Stephanie's chest to the brim, all the pain and anger of yesterday a fast-fading memory. "Okay."

_oOo_

"See you tonight, Babe." Carlos used an arm around her neck to pull her tight to him, giving her a quick, hard kiss.

"Later, Batman." Stephanie stood on the porch and watched his luscious ass as he walked south toward Fourth Street, black backpack containing his beach supplies hanging from one shoulder. As he rounded the corner and was lost from sight Stephanie sighed and trudged up the stairs, using her key to let herself into the apartment.

"Whoozzere?" Mary Lou's muffled voice came from the pullout, where she and Lenny were spooned beneath a lightweight blanket.

"Just me," Stephanie answered, headed for the bathroom.

Mary Lou's head popped up. "Where were you? I didn't hear you leave."

"Carlos got back around midnight. I was with him." Stephanie shut herself into the bathroom to defer further grilling.

But when she emerged a few minutes later, up and waiting for her was not only Mary Lou, but Tina as well, both sitting cross-legged on the unmade sofabed, still in pajamas.

"Right here, right now," Mary Lou ordered, pointing to the foot of the bed.

Stephanie edged toward the bedroom door. "I was just going to—"

Mary Lou interrupted, "No excuses. Come tell us everything."

Tina chimed in, "Yeah, we want to know how the guys are."

"And," Mary Lou added, "what's up with you and Carlos."

Stephanie glanced into the kitchen. "Where's Lenny?"

"I sent him out for doughnuts," Mary Lou said. "Extra Boston crèmes. But we're not sharing _unless_ you tell us everything."

The thought of doughnuts making her mouth water, Stephanie gave in and took a seat on the bed, crossing her legs, too, so that the three girls formed a triangle. "Well, Carlos got back about midnight last night. He dropped off the guys at Fort Jackson Thursday morning, but they wouldn't let him in at all. He just dropped them off at the gate and they were taken away. So he doesn't really know anything about how they're doing."

"Jeez," said Tina, "I hope they're okay."

"They were both so psyched to go," Mary Lou told her, "that I'm sure everything is fine." She aimed a piercing look at Stephanie. "So were you just coming home? Did you spend the night with Carlos?"

Stephanie wished she didn't blush so easily. After all, Mary Lou slept with Lenny almost every night, and it didn't embarrass her to talk about it. But then again, they were engaged, getting married in less than two months. While she and Carlos, well, weren't.

"Steph?" Tina's prompt pulled Stephanie away from her thoughts.

"Oh, yeah." Her face was hot. "He came straight here, and he took me to his place for the night."

"Is he staying in Point Pleasant?" Mary Lou cocked her head. "What about school?"

"He's still going to work on the beach Saturdays and Sundays for September, and he'll go to school during the week."

"So I guess you'll be seeing him every weekend, at least for the next few weeks."

"I guess so."

_oOo_

At eight thirty that evening Carlos walked into Crabster's and joined Lenny in the back booth. "Hey, Lenny, how's it going?"

"I'm tired," Lenny said. "I got called out in the middle of the night by my doctor because his toilet was plugged up. But I took care of it in no time. I just threw in two aspirins and told him to call me in the morning." Lenny's laughter rang out loud and long.

Carlos grinned. "How's the house? Did you get the painting done?"

He listened to Lenny talk about his handyman efforts as Stephanie and Mary Lou bustled around bringing them soup, salads, a basket of rolls.

Twenty minutes later Tina came out from the kitchen. "Here, guys." She set a full platter of broiled flounder and French fries down in front of them along with an extra plate. "The kitchen made a mistake on an order, so it's all yours." She winked at them.

"I'll take some fish," Carlos said to Lenny. "You can have the fries."

"You can have all the fish," Lenny said, dipping three fries in ketchup and stuffing them all in his mouth at once, muffling his voice. "Don' like it."

As Lenny dug into the piece of pie Mary Lou brought him, he looked at Carlos. "Hey, how about coming to our place tonight? I just got the Ironman DVD, but got voted down last night in favor of 27 Dresses." He shuddered. "I need some guy power."

"Sure," Carlos said. "I'm up for Ironman."

_TBC_


	52. Rooftops and Invitations 4

_Warning: Smut_

**Rooftops and Invitation 4**

"That was fun," Stephanie said as she and Carlos walked down the porch steps and turned south on Green Street. "I liked Ironman."

"Mmm-hmm," Carlos agreed, stabilizing Stephanie's big tote bag on his shoulder and capturing her small hand in his long-fingered grip. Not that her hand was really small, she mused, but his size and strength took her breath away, made her feel dainty in comparison.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the midnight quiet. Even here, blocks from the beach, you could feel the ocean, its power and its glory. The salt air permeated the atmosphere, and the faint rumble of the waves breaking on the beach was an unrelenting underpinning of life at the shore.

Stephanie's mind was astir like the sea, circling around like the never-ending cycle of the tides, trying to figure out this… thing… with Carlos. It was apparent to her now that it was more than just a summer fling, yet it wasn't exactly a relationship, at least not in the way she thought of relationships. There'd been no words of commitment spoken, no planning for a future together, hell, not even any planning for tomorrow. There was only this passionate coming together, the inability to stay apart, the pure physical need for each other. This _connection_…

"Something on your mind, Babe?" Carlos sent a sideways glance toward her face.

For a brief second Stephanie considered sharing her thoughts but instantly rejected the idea. The tentative bond between them felt too fragile to test. She wanted him so much that she feared her desperation would frighten him away.

"Nope," she answered, turning to humor to hide her emotions. "Just a big empty space up there."

"Babe."

"Batman."

They reached the house on Ocean Avenue that contained Carlos's room. Last night was only the second time Stephanie had been there, and she surveyed the building as they strolled up the sidewalk. It was a big, ugly box of a house painted a puke-like shade of gold-brown, though the moonlight turned it to a more attractive umber.

The room was okay, big enough, with the bunk beds, the battered couch covered by a colorful fleece blanket, a small TV that probably belonged to Carlos or one of the guys. The so-called "kitchenette" was really just a sink in a cabinet base, a mini-fridge and a microwave, but the table was bigger than the one in Stephanie's place, a normal kitchen-table size in chipped Formica. The three chairs were old chrome and cracked yellow vinyl, what some people would call "vintage," but what Stephanie called junk.

It wasn't so bad, she told herself, except for the shared bathroom. She'd have hated that when the house was full during the summer. It was bearable now, since there was only one other resident left on the second floor. Carlos said he was a young guy, just out of high school, working as an apprentice auto mechanic. But she'd showered and changed back at her apartment before the movie anyway, so she wouldn't have to worry about robes or darting down the common hallway in a towel.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor and Carlos used his key to open the door of his room, flipping on the light and stepping back to allow Stephanie to precede him. As soon as she got a look she gasped in surprise. "Omigod!"

She turned and threw her arms around him, raining kisses on his face, his neck, her hands skittering up and down his back. "It's perfect. But why?"

"For you, Babe."

Carlos took Stephanie by the hand and led her to the bed. He'd turned it head to the wall and taken down the top bunk, putting the two beds together to form one king. It filled the room, taking up the space where the coffee table had been, but there was still just enough room to walk between the footboard and the couch.

The mattresses were covered with king-sized white sheets and a lightweight blue blanket. A dazzling smile beamed from Stephanie's face as she admired it. "When did you find time to do this?"

"After work."

She folded back the covers and ran her hands over the sheets. They felt like about a million thread count, soft and smooth, better quality than any linens she'd ever slept on. "These sheets are amazing. Where'd you get them?"

"Mall."

Stephanie kicked off her shoes, flopped down on the bed and rolled all the way across to the far side. "Wow, it's really comfortable. And there's no crack between the mattresses. How'd you do that?"

"King size memory foam."

Sitting up, Stephanie exhibited a wicked grin. "I have a surprise for you, too."

She began raising the hem of her red t-shirt inch by agonizing inch, keeping her eyes on his, reveling in the way they dilated and deepened, the way his smile faded and his lips parted. When she finally pulled the shirt off over her head his eyes were bottomless voids and he was almost panting. Beneath the t-shirt was nothing but the lacy white camisole she'd had on the first night he stood outside the big white house, the day they met.

After a long moment he dragged his eyes away and turned, and Stephanie heard the flare of a match, smelled the acrid odor of sulfur drifting across the room. Carlos flicked off the light switch and turned back, holding a white jar candle. The flame wavered as he moved, emitting ripples of soft, yellow light that undulated over the sharp planes and angles of his face but couldn't disguise his beauty, couldn't touch the darkness of his eyes.

Setting the candle on the coffee table, now against the wall beside the bed, he held her eyes as he undressed, revealing that perfect, sculpted body, smooth dark skin over defined muscle. Now it was Stephanie's turn to stare. She swiped the back of a hand across her chin to make sure she wasn't drooling as she took in the eight-pack abs, the solid pecs with their small, dark nipples. When he dropped his pants she gasped at the size of him, long and thick and rigid—and hers for the taking.

She held out her arms toward him, murmuring his name. "Carlos."

"Babe," he whispered as he dropped to his hands and knees on the bed, creeping toward her with the smooth, rippling grace of a panther stalking its prey. Stephanie couldn't read his expression, the flickering candlelight behind him casting his face into shadow, but she knew every millimeter of it, knew it was filled with that mixture of danger and desire that sent palpitations quaking through her. Her nipples were taut, straining the lace that covered them, throbbing for him, aching for his touch, and wetness flowed between her legs.

His hands went first to her waist, unbuttoning and unzipping the khaki shorts and sliding them off, his mouth following their path over the white lace boy shorts and down the long, pale legs. When they were gone, he worked his way back up, every touch making her moan, her breath catch, her limbs tremble.

He took his time, worshiping her body with his hands, his mouth as he finished undressing her until she lay revealed, open to him. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her face as his fingers and tongue brought her to climax, her sharp cry ripping into his heart. Moving back up, he watched as the blindness faded from her eyes, and when she was again focused on him he revealed himself.

"Stephanie." His voice was low, hoarse, passion filled. "I love you."

The surprise, the pleasure punched through her, and she framed his face in her hands as she rolled them both over, skin sliding over skin, smooth and satiny. Her mouth covered his, tongues colliding, fingers demanding, and then she reciprocated the slow, hungry exploration of his body, touching, tasting, teasing until he was quivering with urgency. But still he remained, fists clenching the sheets on each side, body tensed but yielding to her advances, her control over him complete.

When he thought he couldn't hold back another second she rose up over him, hesitating, her look penetrating his heart, his soul.

"I love you, Carlos," she whispered as she took him in.

And he was lost.

_TBC_


	53. Rooftops and Invitations 5

**Rooftops and Invitations 5**

_Monday morning_

"I'll call you later, for sure," Carlos said as Stephanie slid down from the high seat of his Explorer.

She was still a bit lightheaded from the stirring, open-mouthed kiss he'd just bestowed on her, but she managed to turn and narrow her eyes at him. "If you don't, you'll be in for a major ass-kicking."

He grinned. "And you're just the woman to do it, Babe."

She couldn't help but grin back as she slammed the door shut and gave him a small finger wave.

She stood on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building in New Brunswick, watching until the back of the SUV was lost from sight. Things between them were different, she thought as she walked into her lobby, had been different ever since Saturday night. As she waited for the elevator to take her to the fourth floor, her heart gave a little flutter at the thought that Carlos loved her, that there was a commitment between them, a relationship. How quickly things could change.

She was still in the big bed Sunday morning when he'd kissed her goodbye as he left for the beach. When he'd said to her, "Babe, I want you to stay here with me tonight, every possible night. There's an empty dresser. Would you pack the rest of your things from the apartment so we can bring them over?"

She'd been so happy she thought she was going to cry, but she'd managed to nod her assent. Last night they'd moved all her clothes in, and even the plastic drawer unit that contained her cosmetics, hair products, tampons. She'd be spending every weekend with him. She felt like she was buoyed up by a vapor of happiness, her feet not touching the ground.

And last night in their big bed in the room on Ocean Avenue, she'd even felt confident enough in their connection to let him know how upset she was when he didn't call on Thursday. "You need to let me know if your plans change," she'd told him, "so I don't worry."

Thus his promise to call her later today, for sure. He was going to see the registrar at Rutgers New Brunswick and see if he could enroll in some classes. He didn't want to officially transfer, because then there would be a record at Newark, a possible trail the bad guys could follow to find him. Even though Stephanie didn't know much about his Newark business, it concerned her that he was being so cautious.

"Hey, Steph, did you have a good weekend? Ready to go to class?" her roommate Amy asked as Stephanie walked into the apartment.

"Two minutes," Stephanie answered, hustling into their bedroom. It was good to have a friend with the same major and most of the same classes, she decided as she sorted through notebooks, picking out the ones she'd need for the day and stuffing books into her backpack. Amy was a good student, took copious notes, got decent grades.

Stephanie was determined to do better this year than last. She'd spent her freshman year, her first year away from the strictures of her mother and the Burg, sowing enough wild oats to feed the state of New Jersey. This year she was going to actually go to classes, do her homework, not wait until the night before a test to try to learn all the material.

"So how was the weekend?" Amy asked. "Make lots of tips?"

"Almost three hundred dollars," Stephanie answered. "The restaurant was pretty busy. There are still lots of people at the shore."

"You should have been here. There was a great party at Zeta on Saturday night…"

_oOo_

"…and Bunny hooked up with this guy from Sig and never came home until ten o'clock last night."

Amy kept remembering more and more things Stephanie had missed during the weekend, and she was still talking as they walked from the campus toward their apartment after their last class. It had been a long day, and Stephanie was thinking she might take a nap. She'd had to get up a lot earlier than she was used to for the drive from Point Pleasant to get to her nine o'clock class. And the timing had put them right in the middle of rush hour into New Brunswick. Traffic had been sucky, though Carlos had been in this kind of driving zone, in his own little world, and it didn't seem to bother him.

The moment she and Amy turned the corner onto Bayard Street Stephanie felt the little lurch in her chest and her eyes raked the block for the figure dressed in black. Ah, there he is, she thought, spotting the silhouette leaning against the black SUV, arms crossed on his chest. He looked relaxed and yet alert, and now his head was turned toward her, watching her walk down the street.

"Holy shit!" Amy exclaimed as they got a little closer. "Wow! That is one hot guy. I've never seen him before. I wonder what he's doing in front of our building."

"Umm…" Stephanie began, but trailed off. She hadn't mentioned Carlos to Amy, to anyone. It was all too new, and she was afraid she'd jinx it if she talked about it.

"Kind of scary looking," Amy babbled on, clueless. "Dangerous, all dressed in black like that, so serious. Do you think he's a drug dealer or something?"

Carlos pushed off the car and started toward them with long-legged strides, his dark eyes locked on Stephanie's, his face blank.

"Holy shit," Amy muttered under her breath, and then Carlos was there.

"Babe," he said as he grabbed Stephanie and picked her up, one hand under her butt for support, the other around her midsection, elbow bent so the hand gripped the back of her neck. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist and just had time to whisper, "Batman," before his mouth crushed hers.

"Holy shit," Amy said for the third time.

Fifteen minutes later they were up in Stephanie's bedroom. Carlos was reclined on her bed, leaning on his elbow watching her throw things into a suitcase while Amy sat across from them on her bed, asking question after question. Carlos answered those directed at him in as few syllables as possible, and Stephanie wasn't much better.

"So Carlos, where are you from?"

Carlos: "Newark."

"Where are you guys going?"

Stephanie: "Point Pleasant."

"How'd you two meet?"

Carlos: "Beach."

"How long have you been together?"

Stephanie: "A couple months."

And on and on and on.

"Whew," Stephanie sighed, waving goodbye to Amy on the sidewalk in front of the apartment building as Carlos pulled the Explorer away from the curb. "Quite the inquisition. Sorry about that."

"De nada, Babe."

Most of Stephanie's clothes and all of her books were in the back of the SUV. She'd left just a couple changes of clothes, minimal cosmetics, and all her pajamas in case she ended up sleeping over in New Brunswick some night. She didn't need any pajamas in Point Pleasant, she thought with a secret smile.

She looked at Carlos. No expression. As usual. But she was learning to read him from his eyes, his body language. He seemed relaxed, at ease. "So how many classes did you pick up in New Brunswick?"

"Three." Carlos turned east toward the coast.

"That's great. What about the ones left in Newark?"

"I'll audit in New Brunswick and just go up to Newark for exams." He didn't move a millimeter, but somehow there was now tension in his shoulders.

Stephanie worried about him going to Newark, worried about the bad guys, even though she didn't know who they were or what the danger was. The uncertainty was worse not knowing. But questioning him would do no good, and she didn't want to be a nag. He'd tell her when he was ready, not before.

As they entered the highway Carlos reached over and took Stephanie's hand, surrounding it with his and holding it on his thigh. Stephanie glanced over and saw that he was in that driving zone, so she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

_TBC_


	54. Rooftops and Invitations 6

**Rooftops and Invitations 6**

_Two weeks later, Monday evening_

"I don't see why we have to learn all this crap," Stephanie muttered under her breath. "I just don't get it."

Warm pinkish-gold light set the king-size white sheets aglow as the sinking sun peeked in through the west-facing window on its way to bed. It was only six-thirty and the overhead light was already on. Dusk was coming earlier as September passed, and even though the days were still warm, nights were cooler. It was official—fall had come to Point Pleasant.

Carlos looked up from his textbook, the corners of his mouth quirking up just a smidgen. He and Stephanie were seated across from each other at the dining table in the room on Ocean Avenue, books, notebooks and papers littering the space between them.

"Statistics?" he asked.

"Yeah." The sun illuminated the wild tangle of chestnut curls around Stephanie's head, and glints of gold sparkled as she raked her hands through her hair again. "I'm hopeless. I'll never understand this stuff."

Carlos pulled his chair around so he was next to her. "Let's see, Babe."

Fifteen minutes later the light bulb went on in Stephanie's head. "Ohhhh… I get it now." She swung her leg over Carlos and ended up on his lap, straddling him, the old kitchen chair wobbling. She took his face in both hands and pressed her lips hard against his. "Thank you so much, Batman. I'd never have figured this stuff out on my own."

It had been the best two weeks of her life, Stephanie thought as he took control of the kiss, even better than the summer. Like a dream. She and Carlos had settled in together. And it wasn't just coincidence that their room was almost all bed.

"Oh." Stephanie tore her mouth away from Carlos. "You keep kissing me and I keep forgetting."

His grin was wicked. "Can't help myself. It's your lips, Babe. They're just so kissable." He leaned into her again.

Stephanie released a short laugh as she pushed back. "Just hold it a second. I've got a proposition for you."

His eyes darkened and his lips parted, and the next thing she knew he was on top of her on the big bed, their arms and legs entwined, his lips on her throat. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest and thrusting her pelvis against the steel I-beam in his pants.

"So about this proposition…" Carlos lifted his head so he could look in her lust-blinded eyes, a full smile on his gorgeous face. It was both fun and arousing the way her body responded to him.

"Huh?" Stephanie's mind was as blank as her face, and she blinked at him, open mouthed. After a few seconds the light dawned and she frowned, her bottom lip pooched out. "You do that on purpose, don't you? Just to mess me up."

"Guilty." Carlos nipped at the pouty lip, his affection for her written all over his face. "So what's up, Babe?"

She cupped his cheeks, holding his head back so he couldn't kiss her for a minute. "Mary Lou and Tina are quitting work at the restaurant after next weekend and giving up the apartment as of October first."

She dropped her eyes from his, tipping her head down so her face was shadowed, unreadable. "I was just thinking, uh… Since my name is on the lease, too, I have the option of keeping the apartment. I know it's more expensive than this place, but it's a lot nicer, too. It's got the bedroom… And a real kitchen so we could maybe save some money by cooking instead of eating takeout all the time… And the rent's going down for the winter starting in October, so it wouldn't really be that much… And maybe when the restaurant closes I could pick up a weekend job somewhere else so I could pay part of the rent… And, well…" Her eyes came back up to his. "Do you want to move over there?"

Carlos took her wrists and guided her hands to the back of his neck, his mouth covering hers, tongue teasing. A small moan escaped her as his hands began to move over her body.

Half an hour later, naked and sweaty, they lay side by side crossways on the big bed. When her mind came back from the Land of Orgasm and she could breathe again, Stephanie said, "So, about the apartment…"

Carlos got up and crossed the room to the table where his books and papers were piled. What a beautiful sight, Stephanie thought, admiring the smooth mocha skin, the rippling muscles, that amazing ass. Extracting a stapled document from the organized chaos, he brought it back to the bed and held it out.

"What's this?" Stephanie sat up, crossed her legs and took the paper, reading from it. "Lease agreement for 335 Green Street, Apartment 2B…" She looked up at him. "When did you get this?"

"I stopped in after work yesterday." Carlos sat down on the bed opposite her, crossing his legs as well.

Stephanie looked back down at the lease. "Tenants, Stephanie M. Plum and Carlos Manoso… Term, six months. _Six months?_" Her eyes were huge, their blueness blazing as they caught his. "That's a pretty long commitment. Are you sure? Because they'd probably agree to a month-by-month just to keep the apartment rented for the winter. That's what we signed for September."

A quick smile warmed Carlos's chocolate eyes. "Don't want to give you a chance to get away, Babe. I'd have gone for longer, but the summer rent is so much higher I thought we should wait and see what our financial situation is in the spring before we make a decision."

We, thought Stephanie, her heart ballooning in her chest. We're a "we." We're signing a lease together.

A small seed of doubt sprouted at the thought of her parents. They wouldn't approve of her moving in with a guy. And Carlos was so different, so not Burg. But he's wonderful, just perfect, she thought, and I love him so much. And he loves me. How could they disapprove?

Her thoughts turned to ways to introduce him to them, maybe bring him home for dinner some evening. Her mother had been nagging at her to come home for a weekend and she'd used the excuse of work at the restaurant to avoid it. But once the restaurant closed she'd have to go.

She'd take Carlos with her, she decided, at the first opportunity. Once her parents got to know him, they were bound to love him the way she did. Decision made, the doubt withered and the happiness bloomed.

Carlos watched her face, reading the emotions, the surprise, the joy, the doubt. When the happiness won out and her smile appeared, he leaned and reached a long arm over to snag a pen from the table, scrawling his name on the lease in bold, slashing strokes and handing the document to Stephanie.

As she scribbled her signature she thought that it wasn't possible to be this happy. She'd never been happier and she feared she'd never be this happy again.

_TBC_


	55. Rooftops and Invitations 7

**Rooftops and Invitations 7**

_Two weeks later, Thursday_

"I don't understand why you can't take your birthday off." Mrs. Plum was driving Stephanie to the Bridal Shoppe in her big, old Buick to meet Mary Lou and Tina for final fittings of their dresses.

"I told you, Mom. Sunday is the last day the restaurant is open. I'm one of the few waitresses still working. I can't bail on Uncle Tommy." Stephanie was trying to have patience but her mother's controlling attitude had grated more and more over the past year since Stephanie moved out to go to college. Especially, she admitted to herself, since she'd been with Carlos. It was her life, her relationship, and if the perfect Burg life—marriage, children, living down the street from your parents and grandparents—wasn't for her, then her mom should accept that and be happy that she was happy.

Carlos had dropped her off at the Plum half of the duplex in Trenton before going to New Brunswick for his afternoon class, giving her a quick kiss before she got out of the SUV in spite of her mother standing in the front doorway watching. The car windows were slightly tinted and her mom hadn't said anything, so Stephanie figured she hadn't seen. But Carlos was coming back to have dinner with them, to meet her family. Stephanie was excited and yet nervous. Even though her family drove her crazy sometimes, they were still her family and she really wanted them to like Carlos, and he them.

"I look like a hippo!" A river of tears rolled down Mary Lou's face leaving rivulets of black eye liner as she stood on a pedestal in the middle of the mirrored room at the Bridal Shoppe. "A big, fat, white hippo."

She stepped down and threw herself at Stephanie as soon as she came through the door. "I've changed my mind," she sobbed, burying her face in Stephanie's neck, the huge bouffant skirt of the bridal gown engulfing them both. "I don't want to get married. I'm calling the priest right now. Somebody give me a phone."

Tina emerged from the dressing room in a dark red, off-the-shoulder gown that rosied her olive complexion and enhanced her curvy figure. Her eyes met Stephanie's and she crinkled her forehead. "Thank God you're here. Maybe you can talk some sense into her."

It was only two weeks to the wedding, and it was obvious Mary Lou was a wreck.

"Come on, Lou," Stephanie said, patting her shoulder and putting an arm around her waist to guide her back into the dressing room. Mrs. Molnar was hovering, stricken, and Stephanie shook her head at her as she started to follow them. "Could you give us girls a few minutes, Mrs. M?"

Twenty minutes later the three emerged again, all smiles, Mary Lou's face clean and glowing, easing their mothers' worried faces. Stephanie had on her maid-of honor gown, the same dark red material as Tina's, but in a strapless, slim style that emphasized her height and slenderness, added a blush of reflected color to her paleness. She thought she looked pretty damn good, and couldn't wait until Carlos saw her in it. He was going to be her date for the wedding, and the image of him in a suit, sweeping her across the dance floor, sent her into a fantasy of walking down the aisle to meet him. I, Stephanie, take thee Carlos…

_oOo_

"Grandma, Grandpa!" Stephanie hurried to meet them as they came bustling through the front door of the Plum house, all noise and confusion. "I didn't know you were coming to dinner."

"Helen said you were bringing a boy home to meet the family, and we wanted to eyeball him." Grandma Mazur was a tiny, scrawny woman with the trademark tight curls that had passed down the genetic line to Stephanie's mother and on to Stephanie. Grandma's were steel gray, short, curling in a cap over her head. She was getting somewhat hard of hearing, and she made up for it by talking extra loud.

"What's wrong with you, girl?" Grandpa Mazur's booming voice and overbearing personality dominated the house, even though he wasn't much taller than Grandma, the top of his head just about reaching Stephanie's nose. He was a lot bulkier, though, and probably outweighed her by almost a hundred pounds. Grandma was a good, old-fashioned cook, using lots of butter and saturated fats, and Grandpa enjoyed every heaping serving to the max.

Right now he looked like he was suffering from an attack of apoplexy, all red face and broken veins. "Your mother said this boy you're seeing isn't even American."

"Grandpa!" Stephanie was shocked. "Carlos is so American. Cuban American. His family came from Cuba more than thirty years ago, and he was born here."

"Immigrants," Grandpa pronounced, "taking jobs away from good, red-blooded Americans, or on welfare, having baby after baby at the taxpayers' expense. They oughta all go back where they came from."

"Grandpa, Carlos is from Newark. He was born in Florida and his family moved to New Jersey when he was little. He's as American as I am." Stephanie was beginning to panic. Oh, God, what have I done, she asked herself. This dinner was going to be pure torture. And once Carlos met her family, realized the kind of background she came from, he'd probably take off and she'd never see him again. Oh God, oh God.

"Now Dad." Helen Plum had moved up behind Stephanie, and it was obvious where Stephanie's looks came from. Helen had the same pale skin, the same slim build, though several inches shorter than her daughter, the same curly brunette hair but worn short and loosened with large rollers that she wore to bed every night. The only thing Stephanie had inherited from her father was her height and her Italian temper.

Helen continued, "This boy is going to be a guest in our home, and we don't speak unkindly to guests. No matter how much we disapprove, we'll keep quiet about it tonight, right Dad? Mom?"

"Hey, there ain't nothing wrong with being an immigrant," Grandma Mazur chirped. "Heck, your own parents were immigrants from Hungary, and so were mine."

"That's different," Harry said. "Stephanie's family has been American for generations."

Grandma may have been small, and she may have let Grandpa think he was the boss of her, but she didn't take any crap from anybody, him included. "Just button it for the evening, Harry."

_oOo_

"Omigod, Carlos, I'm so sorry," Stephanie said as she climbed into his SUV and looked back out the door at his blank face.

"Let me put this in the back," he said, taking the big brown grocery bag of leftovers and other food that she had clutched on her lap. He closed her door and walked around the car, putting the bag behind his seat, climbing in and starting the engine. He didn't speak as he pulled away from the curb and the awkward silence stretched on as he turned onto Chambers Avenue, onto Hamilton Avenue.

Stephanie cast her eyes his way and in spite of his lack of expression, she was certain there was a tenseness in his jaw, a set to his shoulders. It had been the dinner from hell.

Nobody had done or said anything outright rude. Her mother was scrupulous when it came to proper manners, and she would never allow a guest to be insulted. But the implied digs had been there in the polite, yet pointed questions about Carlos's background, his family, his education. The disapproval had been so thick in the air that you could taste it. Not even the birthday cake, the candles, the presents could ease the tension.

Stephanie's heart ached and she didn't know what to do, what to say. She wanted to make it better, to let him know somehow that no matter how bad her family was, that wasn't her. But she feared anything she said would just make it worse. Why the hell did I ever want Carlos to meet my family, she asked herself. I'm such an idiot. I should have known.

Thinking about Point Pleasant, scenes from their perfect summer flitting through her mind one after another, she leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, trying not to cry.

_TBC_


	56. Rooftops and Invitations 8

**Rooftops and Invitations 8**

By the time Carlos parked in front of their apartment tears clogged the back of Stephanie's throat. She'd spent the whole forty-minute drive thinking about the big white house on Green Street, the apartment where they'd been so happy living together for the past couple of weeks, the place that held so many wonderful memories—the first time Carlos made love to her, the midnight meetings on the roof and the hours sitting in the dark on the front porch exploring each other's minds and bodies and hearts, the nights on the sofabed when Mary Lou was in Trenton.

As soon as Carlos got out of the car Stephanie swiped a hand across her eyes, rubbing away the tears so he wouldn't see how upset she was by her family's behavior. She hopped out of the car as he was getting the bag of food from the backseat, walked to the front door and used her own key to open it. His ability to know what she was thinking was uncanny, and she didn't want him to see her face.

He was right behind her when she opened the apartment door and she kept her eyes hooded as she turned to take the bag from him. "I'll just put this stuff in the fridge," she said, hurrying into the kitchen, never looking at his face.

The remaining half of Stephanie's birthday cake was in a box at the bottom of the bag of leftovers, and after she put the rest of the food away she set it on the counter. Opening the box, she pulled out the half cake, still on its doily'd cardboard circle from the Tasty Pastry, and set it on the small kitchen table. Tears were now pouring from her eyes, dripping down her face, and she grabbed a fork from the dish drainer and began shoveling big chunks of cake and icing into her mouth.

"Babe?" Carlo appeared at the kitchen door. The instant he saw the look on Stephanie's face he was beside her, removing the fork from her hand, tearing a paper towel from the roll on the counter to wipe the tears away with gentle fingers and clean the frosting from around her mouth.

"It's okay, Babe," he said, picking her up and holding her tight against his chest, one hand underneath her and the other tunneled into her hair. "I know I'm not good enough for you. I've always known it. So if you think it's time to end it I'll understand."

"What?!" Stephanie's voice expressed her shock and her dismayed blue eyes finally rose to meet his expressionless brown ones. "Not good enough? Are you crazy?"

"The barrio of Newark doesn't exactly compare to the Burg." He carried her into the living room and sat down on the couch, holding her on his lap. "You know most of my history. I grew up poor, ran drugs for a gang, spent almost a year in juvie. Even when my parents sent me down to Florida to live with my grandparents I managed to get in with the worst possible crowd. And when I came back to Newark, well… I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. I don't belong with someone like you."

Stephanie grabbed his face in both hands, trying to read the flat eyes, the blank face. Nothing. Just that hint of tension in his posture.

Tears filled her eyes again and she put her hand on his chest to push away, inching off his lap so that she stood in front of him. "I thought you loved me."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked down at her feet. "I do love you, Stephanie. But I have nothing to offer, no money, no background. Your family doesn't approve, and they're right not to." He rose, still not meeting her eyes. "If you want to pack your things I'll drive you to New Brunswick."

Stephanie felt like her heart was ripping in two. "Are you breaking up with me because of the way my family treated you?" Tears blurred her voice.

His voice was soft, no more than a murmur. "No, I'm just giving you the opportunity to get out if that's what you want."

Stephanie thought about what he'd said. He wasn't good enough for her. He didn't belong with someone like her.

She looked at his face, reached out a hand to raise his chin so his gaze met hers. "What if it's not what I want? What if I'm ashamed of the way my family treated you? What if I love you and want to be with you no matter what they think?"

His shoulders relaxed and he reached for her, his arms around her driving away the doubt and pain. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive," she said and raised her mouth, lips parted, to his.

_oOo_

_Three days later_

"Happy birthday, Babe." Carlos's voice brought Stephanie out of a half-awake dream of warm sun, soft sand, gentle waves and a hot, hard body against hers.

The hot, hard body was reality, not a dream, she realized and burrowed into him. The feel of him always comforted her. No matter how cold and harsh the world might be, in his arms were warmth, safety, peace.

"Thanks, Batman," she mumbled into his neck. "Do we have to get up?"

It was Sunday, her birthday and her last day of work at Crabster's. After tonight the restaurant would close down for the winter, reopening in the spring. She should really find another part-time job, Stephanie thought. She'd already paid the semester's rent for the apartment in New Brunswick, but she wanted to pay half of the rent here, as well. She thought she'd give up the college apartment for the spring semester, as long as Carlos was still taking classes and driving her to school every day. She hadn't stayed in New Brunswick a single night this semester after the first week.

"Are you hungry?" Carlos asked, getting up and walking naked out of the bedroom. Stephanie watched him go, admiring what she thought might be his best side. But no, she decided, the return view was even better.

She pushed herself up against the headboard, waiting and watching, planning on confirming that opinion of the front view when he came back. But the small cake in his hands, the lit candles, had her mouth dropping open in shock.

"Happy birthday," he repeated, setting the cake in her lap and sitting down on the edge of the bed, "but sorry, no singing."

Stephanie grinned at him. "That's a relief," she told him. "There was enough singing on Thursday."

"Make a wish, Babe."

Stephanie thought for a second, but she already had her wish. There was nothing more in the world that she could possibly want, so she blew out the candles.

"A perfect birthday already," she said. "There's nothing better than cake for breakfast. Well," she raked her eyes up and down his incredible body, "maybe one thing."

Carlos took the cake and set it on the nightstand. Reaching under the bed he pulled out a small oblong white box tied with a blue ribbon and handed it to her.

"Omigod, a present! When did you get this?" Stephanie asked him.

"Last weekend when you were working."

Stephanie stared at the box, savoring the moment.

"Aren't you going to open it?" he asked after a minute.

"Just storing up memories," she replied and got down to the business of untying the bow. When she opened the box she gasped in delight. "Omigod, it's gorgeous! Thank you so much!"

"Let me put it on you," Carlos said, taking the simple, heart-shaped sapphire pendant and fastening the white gold chain around Stephanie's neck as she held up her hair. "Now, let's see how it looks." He stood up, pulling the covers off her naked body, and grabbed her ankles to drag her down until she was prone on the bed, sapphire glowing in the hollow at the base of her throat.

"Well, Batman, what do you think?" she asked, stretching her arms above her head, her long, slim body laid out like a banquet just for him.

"I've never seen anything so delicious in my life," he responded as he lowered himself beside her to begin his feast.

_TBC_


	57. Rooftops and Invitations 9

_Warning: The angst begins.  
_

**Rooftops and Invitations 9**

_The next day_

Monday morning as Carlos walked across the New Brunswick campus toward his first class his cell phone vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. His mother.

He hadn't talked to her since Julio and Lester left for boot camp. He rarely talked to her anyway, wanting to keep his family separated from the business he'd been involved in for the past couple of years. A vague sense of unease rippled through his chest as he pressed the button to answer. He hoped Julio was okay, his dad, his grandparents. So many possibilities.

He stepped off the sidewalk into the lee of a building as he answered. "Hello?"

His mother's voice was panicked. "Carlos, where are you?"

With tremendous effort he kept his voice calm. "I'm right here, Mama. What's wrong?"

He heard the clattering of dishes. "Mama?"

"Sorry, I need a cup of tea. Two men came, looking for you." There was a hesitation, the sound of water running before her voice came back. "They knocked on the door and when I opened it they pushed me back, came into the house."

Carlos's voice was low and harsh and frightening. "Did they hurt you?"

"No, no, I'm fine. But they scared me. They said they needed to find you, asked me where you are… I told them I didn't know, but they didn't believe me. I'm sorry, Carlos, but I gave them your phone number."

"Good, that's good. You did exactly the right thing." He hesitated a moment. "Can you describe them for me?"

"One of them was Latino, Mexican maybe, not too tall, but good looking, clean cut, medium length black hair. He did all the talking."

Mario Vargas, the liaison between the DeCalva family and his old gang, the Bloods. Mario had been his recruiter and primary contact for the past two years. He was an associate in the family, but not made, working directly for Luigi DeCalva, the lieutenant in charge of campus ops in the Newark area.

"How about the other one?"

"Big, really big, tall and heavy, shaved head, red face. His nose was bent to the side, like it had been broken."

Hulkman, Vargas's main low level enforcer, used as brawn where brains weren't necessary. Carlos himself had done some enforcement for Vargas where an intimidation job required intelligence.

"Carlos," his mother said, "what have you gotten into?"

"I'm sorry, Mama." Carlos thought for a second. "Mama, I'm going to call Elisa and see if she can take you to her place for the day. I know who the men are. I'll take care of it. They won't bother you again, I promise."

Carlos hung up and called his oldest sister, relieved to find her at home with her two toddlers. After receiving her assurance that she'd pick up their mother and keep her there until their father got home from work, he turned around and walked back to where his car was parked. Shit. He'd been avoiding exactly this since May. He needed to think.

Just as he was climbing into the Explorer, his mind engrossed in scenarios, his phone vibrated again. The caller ID said "New Jersey," telling him it was a cell phone. He didn't recognize the number, but he knew who it would be.

"Yo," he answered.

"Ah, Carlos, you're difficult to get a bead on." Mario Vargas.

Carlos put every possible ounce of intimidation into his voice. "Stay away from my family, maricon. Or die."

"Fuck you, bro. Luigi wants you in his office. Today."

"Can't do it. I'm gone, far away, out of it."

Vargas gave a short laugh. "Bullshit, pup. I'm fucking a puta in the registrar's office. You're still around."

"What does Luigi want?"

"Looking to expand operations down into NB."

"Jesus, looking to start a war?" New Brunswick was under the purview of the Giordanos, a rival crime family.

"Huge campus down there. Plenty of room for two."

"What the fuck do you think I can do about it?"

"Quit the crap. I know you're down there and a guy with your, uh… attributes… could be a major baller. Big earner potential."

"Word, bro." Stall, delay, put it off, Carlos told himself. "But I'm too far away to get there today. Couple days I'll be back in Jersey, do it then."

"I don't hear from you tomorrow we'll pay your sweet little mama another visit, and next time I'm taking Artist with me." Artist as in rape artist. Carlos felt sick to his stomach.

"I said stay away from my family," Carlos repeated. "I'll call tomorrow to set up the meet."

He flipped his phone shut, then opened it again and dialed a number that he'd done his best to forget.

"Paco, it's Carlos. I need a deuce and a half, clean."

_oOo_

The smile blew away from Stephanie's face like a dead leaf in a strong wind when she saw the grim look Carlos wore.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she climbed into the Explorer.

He pulled away from the curb and turned the corner toward Point Pleasant, his eyes flicking back and forth from the road to his rearview mirror.

Once they got to the highway, he seemed to relax a little, but his eyes still strayed to the mirror, watching, watching.

"Carlos?" Stephanie asked. "Is someone following us?"

He exhaled. "No, Babe. But some bad business caught up with me today and I need to deal with it."

"Can I do anything to help?"

"Yes, there is something you can do."

Surprised, Stephanie answered, "Anything, Batman. What?"

"You can move back in with Amy."

The words were like a spear through Stephanie's heart. "For good?"

"For now."

"Why?"

"I need to be sure you're safe, and right now being anywhere near me isn't." His eyes were back on the mirror, and he swerved across two lanes of traffic and down an exit ramp.

"Where are we going?" Stephanie asked, unfamiliar with the road or the town.

"Just taking the scenic route," Carlos replied, watching to see if any cars exited behind them.

By the time they arrived at Point Pleasant over an hour later, Stephanie was certain nobody could have followed them without Carlos knowing it.

"Pack up enough for at least a week, Babe," he said as they walked into the apartment. "I hope it won't be any longer than that."

He walked to the hallway outside the bathroom, picked up the plastic drawer unit that held her cosmetics and personal items and carried it out the door without looking back.

Tears flooded Stephanie's eyes, flowing down her face as she pulled her suitcase out from under the bed and began throwing clothes into it. She was worried about him, afraid for him. She didn't think she could bear it. But he did say he hoped it wouldn't be more than a week, so maybe it would only be a few days.

Carlos came back into the apartment with a cardboard carton and took it into the bathroom, grabbing Stephanie's shampoo, conditioner, everything that was hers, stacking them in the box and then moving on to the kitchen.

When he came back into the bedroom, Stephanie had most of her clothes packed and was closing the lid of her large suitcase.

"Ready, Babe?" he asked.

"Carlos." Stephanie turned to him, cradled his beautiful face in her two hands, stared into those liquid, dark chocolate eyes, trying to show him all her love, all her support. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Stephanie." He picked up the suitcase and set it on the floor and then wrapped her in his arms, lowering her to the bed as carefully as a piece of priceless porcelain.

Tears flowed from the sides of her eyes down into her ears, her hair, the whole time he made love to her, and she prayed to God it wasn't the last time.

**TBC in Part 6—So Long, So Long**


	58. So Long, So Long 1

W_arning: Lots of angst coming._

**Part 6—So Long, So Long**

_I was certain that the season could be held between my arms  
Just as summer's hold is fleeting  
I was here but now I'm gone...  
__—Chris Carrabba_

1

As soon as Stephanie's things were unloaded at the New Brunswick apartment Carlos got back into his SUV and turned toward Newark, old haunts, old homies.

He tried to take his mind off Stephanie by thinking about how he was going to handle the upcoming transaction with Vargas and Luigi DeCalva. The stricken look on her face when he kissed her goodbye just ripped at his guts.

He sighed. There was just no helping it. Something had been set in motion and he'd have to find a way to stop it from snowballing. Maybe if he handled this situation in the right way he could get clear. Now that he was clean, legit, he wanted to stay that way. For her. But his heart weighed heavy in his chest.

He remembered how miserable he was when he and Les brought Julio to Point Pleasant in May. He'd thought it was going to be three-and-a-half months of hell. But he met Stephanie, the angel with the blazing blue eyes, and hell turned to heaven. Ironic. As angry and upset as he'd been about Julio getting hooked on the ice, that was that catalyst that brought him to Stephanie, to the idea that he didn't need any criminal activities, that he could just be who he was. He always thought it would be education that would free him. Who knew it would be a little white girl from Trenton?

Stop it, he told himself as he rolled to the curb in front of a bank at the edge of his old Newark neighborhood. He dumped most of the books out of his backpack and, slinging it over one shoulder, went straight to the service area at the side of the teller's cages.

"May I help you?" asked the woman at the information desk.

"I'd like to access my safe deposit box."

Twenty minutes later the safe deposit box was empty and his backpack was heavy with cash, all the money he had in the world other than a few hundred in a checking account. Back in the Explorer, he wound through the Newark barrio, the abandoned, burned-out row houses, the graffiti, the bangers in their colors hanging on the corners. When his mind tried to drift back to Stephanie he was ruthless in pushing the thoughts away. He couldn't think about her and do what he had to do there.

He pulled up in front of an old-fashioned corner store, windows covered by metal mesh covered by bars covered by flexible grating. But the door was open to the mild October breeze, and as he stopped the SUV a small, skinny Latino slithered out and slipped slick as an eel into his passenger seat.

"Carlos." The eyes were jittery, with dilated pupils, and they skittered over him, never pausing long enough to meet his gaze.

"Paco." Carlos held out his hand for the quick Blood shake, slap of palms, tap of backhands, knock of fists, grab of wrists.

"Blood por vida, bro," Paco said, the ritual greeting of the mostly Hispanic Newark gang. Blood for life.

"Por vida, bro." Carlos gave the standard response.

"Que pasa, dawg? You back?" Paco's voice was as jittery as his eyes, and his legs bounced and shook, his hands slapping out a rapid rhythm on his knees, all classic symptoms of meth addiction. "Clica asamblea tonight. You coming?" General meeting of the gang. Carlos had been a sworn brother in his early teens before getting sent up to Yardville, the Garden State Youth Correctional Facility, and then to Florida to live with his grandparents. But when he returned to Newark to begin college he'd stayed away, and although a few of his former banger brothers knew he was around, once Mario Vargas took him on they left him alone.

"No, not back. Just passing through. You got the platinum?"

"Si, si, right here, bro." Paco pulled out a compact pistol in dull bluing with a grip of hard black plastic. His hands shook as he passed it over.

Carlos expertly disassembled and reassembled the weapon, checking for wear, cleanliness, and maintenance. "Guaranteed clean?" he asked, meaning untraceable.

Paco bobbed his head. "Copped in Philly three months ago." Continuing to bob his head as Carlos worked the action and dry-fired the gun, Paco finally asked, "You got the half stack?"

"You got another clip and some ammo?"

"Yeah, yeah, inside. But that's an extra cee."

"Get it."

When Paco slipped back into the SUV and handed him the clip and a box of shells, Carlos had the six hundred dollars ready. "Nice doing business with you, Paco," he said as he handed over the money.

"Rifamos, dawg." We rule. And Paco was gone.

_oOo_

_The next day_

Stephanie was exhausted. She hadn't slept, couldn't eat, was sick with worry and fear. Worry that Carlos would be hurt. Fear that he wouldn't come back to her.

Since she couldn't sleep anyway, she covered the dark circles under her eyes with concealer and went to class with Amy. Tuesday was an easy day, just a single hour-and-a-half class, one to two-thirty. When the class was over she and Amy walked out of the building together.

"I'm going to go to the library for a while, get in a couple hours of serious study time. You coming?" Amy asked as they paused on the sidewalk. It was mild, one of those warm, muggy October afternoons with a hazy sun shining high in a pale blue sky and clouds on the horizon.

"I'm tired," Stephanie admitted. "I think I'll go back and try to catch a nap."

"Okay, I'll be back by dinnertime. See you later." Amy set off with a spring in her step, auburn hair flipping from side to side as she swung her hips.

Stephanie wished she had that kind of energy as she trudged toward, not home, she thought, that apartment isn't home. Point Pleasant is home. Carlos is home. From where she was on the campus it was eight blocks to Bayard Street, and her steps dragged, her shoulders slumped, her head hung.

Oh, Carlos, she thought, where are you? It was so hard not knowing what was happening, even what the problem was. In just a few more hours it would be a full day since she'd seen him, heard from him.

She wondered if he remembered their talk about how he was supposed to call her so she wouldn't worry. Should she call him? But what if his phone rang in the middle of something important and it distracted him or caused him to get hurt? She decided not to try, at least not for another day. If she didn't hear anything by tomorrow, she'd call him.

It seemed like a lifetime, an achy, sad, exhausted lifetime before she finally turned the corner onto Bayard Street. There was the apartment building. The street was lined with students' cars, bumper to bumper, and she didn't pay any attention to the scraped and battered black cargo van that was parked in a loading zone in front of the building next door. Why should she?

She was busy watching the guy walking toward her, a well-built Latino with short dark hair, tanned skin and a killer smile. Short compared to Carlos, she thought, and nowhere near as beautiful, but still a good looking guy.

She gave a half smile in response to his broad one and since he veered to her right she stepped toward the curb to give him room to pass. At that instant, when she was right next to it, the sliding side door of the van scraped open with a creak, the guy on the sidewalk pushed her and a giant of a man dragged her into the van, his long, bulky arms restraining her, his hand over her mouth before the scream she'd gathered could escape.

The smaller guy slammed shut the door shut and in seconds was in the driver's seat, accelerating the nondescript van away from the curb.

_TBC_


	59. So Long, So Long 2

**So Long, So Long 2**

Carlos spent much of the day Tuesday thinking, planning, considering various scenarios and what his response should be, trying to foresee every possible contingency. He intended to call Vargas as promised, but late in the afternoon so that the meet with Luigi DeCalva wouldn't be until at least Wednesday. The longer he could put it off, the better. And in the meantime maybe he'd think of a way out.

While he was thinking he kept an eye on his mother. He'd driven to his parents' neighborhood first thing in the morning and parked down the street, remaining behind his tinted windows and watching the front of the house, just in case. Just before lunchtime he called her to tell her he was in the neighborhood so he could walk down the block for the treat of his favorite ropa vieja, shredded beef in a spicy sauce, served with black beans and rice.

He stayed at the house for a couple hours after lunch, mostly sitting silent in the sun on the back steps, the door open so he could hear what was happening inside. After catching up over lunch his mother left him to his ruminations.

Just when he was thinking he should get going the cell phone in his pocket vibrated. It was probably Vargas, too impatient to wait for his call, he thought, annoyed. But when he looked at the display he saw, "You have one new pix message." He frowned. He rarely received pictures. Wondering who it was from he pushed the info button. Along with the date and time it listed the sender: "Babe."

Stephanie, thought Carlos, a smile touching his lips. What could she be sending? Maybe she took a picture of herself. A sexy picture. He wondered if she'd be embarrassed by a little phone sex.

He pressed the button to download the picture and waited. And waited. After a minute the message came up, "Download failed," so he punched the "Retry" button and waited some more.

Finally the picture appeared on his screen and it hit him like a wrecking ball to the chest, stopping his heart. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. And then the anger rolled in like a volcano in his belly, adrenaline punching every nerve ending.

The photo, sent from Stephanie's phone, showed Stephanie being held in the massive arms of Hulkman, his hand over her mouth. Even on the tiny display of his phone her huge, terrified eyes ripped him to pieces. It looked like they were in the back of a cargo van, a metal cage separating them from the driver's seat behind them.

His mind milling, his heart thundering, Carlos leaped up and strode through the house. "Gotta go, Mama. Something came up. Thanks for lunch."

"Come again, Carlos," his mother called after him as he raced out the front door and ran at full speed down the street to where his Explorer was parked.

As soon as he started the car he punched the buttons to dial Stephanie's phone, shoving the Bluetooth in his ear. All he needed was to get stopped by the cops for talking on a cell phone while he was driving. His body was numb, as if no warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. The only feeling he would permit himself was that all-consuming rage.

The smug, self-satisfied voice of Mario Vargas answered Stephanie's phone. "Did you have a nice day, niño de mamá?" Mama's boy.

The fury was so intense Carlos thought his head might explode. But his brain was still working. They must have a tracker on his car. Vargas must have accessed his class information through the registrar's office and picked him up in New Brunswick, tagged his car. So he not only found Stephanie at the Bayard Street apartment, he must also know the Point Pleasant place. They knew where he was before they ever went to intimidate his mother. Fucking assholes.

He allowed nothing of his emotions to show in his voice when he answered. "I'm heading for Point Pleasant now. Meet me in an hour in the parking lot of Crabster's restaurant, end of Third Street at the boardwalk. Bring the puta with you."

He snapped the phone shut without waiting for an answer and steered toward the shore.

_oOo_

Stephanie had never been so terrified in her life. She squirmed and struggled, tried to kick the giant that held her, but her heels just bounced off legs the size of tree trunks. After a few kicks he shoved her down between his thighs and swung one of his legs over top hers to immobilize them. She was sitting on a filthy tarp covering the hard metal floor in the back of the van. Her arms were pinned against her sides by the giant's arms around her, and she couldn't move them at all. She was tiring her already exhausted body and stopped struggling after a few minutes, going limp as a rag doll. Maybe if he thought she was done struggling he'd relax and she could get away.

The van drove for a while. Stephanie couldn't see her watch, but she thought it was about fifteen minutes before it slowed, turned a couple times, backed up and stopped.

"Hold her tight," the voice came from the driver's seat, and the driver got out and came around to open the back doors. Stephanie looked out, hopeful someone would see her, prepared to try to bite the giant's hand, to scream and struggle and kick, but all she saw was a blank brick wall covered with graffiti.

"I need her bag," the driver said from outside the doors. "Take it off her."

The monster let go of her mouth, his platter-sized hand dragging the strap of her book bag down her arm. The minute her mouth was free she screamed at the top of her lungs. And screamed again. She tried to elbow him, but his other arm was wrapped all the way around her, one of her arms trapped by his upper arm and the other held stationary by his hand.

She tried to grab the strap of the bag as it came down over her hand, but the giant just jerked it so hard the strap broke and tossed it toward the back of the van. Then he clamped his hand back over her mouth, muttering, "Jesus, bitch, you're hurting my ears."

The Latino stood at the back of the van with the satchel, rummaging through it. Stephanie wondered what he wanted. Her wallet was in there, but she had less than ten dollars.

"Ah," he said, pulling her cell phone from an outside pocket and flipping it open. Studying it for a moment, he punched a couple of buttons and said, "Smile pretty," before snapping a flash picture of her.

"Let's see how Manoso likes them manzanas," he muttered as he played with the phone.

Stephanie's heart gave a lurch in her chest. It wasn't just a random kidnapping. It was Carlos's bad business. She didn't know whether to be worried or relieved. Worried because the bad guys were using her against him or relieved because he'd come for her. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd save her, even if he had to kill these bastards to do it.

The driver paced back and forth behind the van for a minute and then her phone rang. A smirk painted his face, distorting his good looks as he answered it. After just a moment he flipped it shut.

"We're going to Point Pleasant," he said, tossing the phone back in her bag and shoving it aside. He flopped back the tarp and opened a compartment in the floor of the van, pulling out a coil of yellow nylon rope. "Tie her up and gag her," he said, tossing it up to where the giant was holding her. He made quick work of it, first shoving a filthy rag in her mouth to muffle the screams. In just moments she lay on her side on the dirty tarp, legs bent, hands tied behind her and tied to her feet, a piece of rope tight around her head holding the gag and cutting into the corners of her mouth.

"See ya later, princess," the giant said as he got out of the back of the van.

The hollow booming echo of the doors slamming shut sounded like a death knell.

_TBC_


	60. So Long, So Long 3

**So Long, So Long 3**

Carlos drove like a bat out of hell toward Point Pleasant, praying he wouldn't get stopped for speeding. Although he had the advantage of better highways, if Vargas and Hulkman took Stephanie straight there from New Brunswick they might beat him. Carlos really wanted to get there first, park his SUV and maneuver them to park their van in the way he needed to facilitate the plan that was forming in his mind.

An early dusk was falling, dark stormclouds boiling in from the west, and the light was fading as he roared into the Crabster's lot with a spray of gravel. Yes! He pumped a mental fist. They weren't there yet.

He pulled behind the building to the darkest corner of the parking lot, swinging the Explorer around to face out and backing up to about ten feet from the fence. He hoped to maneuver Vargas into backing in next to him so that the vehicles were blocked by the empty restaurant to the left, the fence to the right and the blank backs of the boardwalk buildings behind. They'd want the darkness as well if there was going to be any kind of exchange. Thank God all his money was in the bag in the backseat, over ten thousand dollars of ill-gotten gains. He'd give up every penny of it to have Stephanie released unharmed, although if Vargas discovered how important she was to him she'd never again be safe. It was going to be a difficult edge to walk, maintaining his balance while reaching the end he wanted and needed.

As he got out of the car he left the backpack with the money on the floor in the backseat but grabbed his duffel bag. From the top he took the gun, checking to see it was loaded, pumping the slide to rack a round into the chamber and adding another bullet to the clip, his hand inside his sleeve so as to leave no fingerprints. He put the extra clip in his pocket and stuck the gun into his waistband at the small of his back, making sure his loose shirt covered it well. The heft of it, the smooth, cool metal against his skin was reassuring.

He tossed the duffel into the corner made by the fence and the back wall of the restaurant, where its blackness all but disappeared in the shadows. Now to deal with the tracker. He'd stuck the magnetic units on other vehicles, so he knew the most likely spots. But as he started to walk around to check under the back bumper he heard the coughing rumble of an engine sputtering down the street. Okay, deal with it later, he told himself, stepping to the corner of the building.

Carlos recognized the van as one Vargas used for transport of contraband and dumping of bodies. Its headlights were on, sweeping along the side of the building as it turned. When the lights reached the back corner Carlos took a step out into the illumination, jerking his head back at an angle to show where he wanted them. Exactly as he'd anticipated, the van drove to the back of the lot and turned away, and when the backup lights came on he exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding.

The moment the van came to a complete stop Carlos was at the rear, pulling on door handles that didn't budge. Locked.

"Worried about the little woman?" Vargas asked, coming around the side of the van with a sneer on his face and a gun in his hand.

"Just let her go and nobody gets hurt." Carlos was grim and menacing. He backed up a step to avoid being flanked when Hulkman appeared from the passenger side. The six-foot wooden fence was about a yard behind him, but he had no doubt of his ability to vault it should it become necessary.

Vargas barked out a short laugh. "Threatening me, chico? You're the one whose ass is in the air, ready to be butt-fucked. Though I'd really rather have the puta." He inclined his head toward the van.

The internal battle not to show his rage almost undid Carlos, but with an effort that had his fingers trembling to clench into fists he kept his face bland, his voice flat. "Even exchange, me for her. You let her go, she takes my car, I'm all yours."

"You're mine anyway, gilipollas," Vargas said as he tossed the keys to Hulkman with his left hand, gun steady in his right.

Lightning flickered in the distance, followed a moment later by the deep rumbling growl of thunder. The rising wind whipped through the trees, rustling the drying leaves, knocking down the loose ones and swirling them around the parking lot. It was going to storm, and soon.

The double rear doors swung open and Carlos stopped breathing when he saw the figure lying there. But then the blazing blue eyes blasted out of the darkness and he heard the muffled screams, saw the struggling. He wanted to run to Stephanie, scoop her up and whisk her away from the terror and pain, but he held himself in check, certain it was her only chance, his only chance.

"There's your puta. Go get her," Vargas said, but Carlos was too smart to enter the back of the van. A quick shove or a knock on the back of the head and he'd be a prisoner with her. That was still an option, but a last resort.

"Untie her," he said, looking at Hulkman.

At Vargas's nod, Hulkman reached down and pulled a wicked looking knife from his pantleg. Climbing into the van he began cutting the ropes that bound Stephanie, feet first, then hands, leaving the gag in place. He pulled her to a seated position and held the knife loose at her throat while allowing her to reach behind her head and work at the knot holding the gag.

"Yuck," she mumbled as she pulled the rag from her mouth. Coughing and clearing her throat her eyes flicked to Carlos before she directed her attention to Vargas and the gun now pointed at her. "I need to get out and stand up," she said, rubbing her calf and flexing her foot. "My legs are cramping from being tied like that."

Carlos felt the swell of pride in his chest. After being kidnapped, tied up, gagged, driven around for a couple of hours, most girls he knew would be either catatonic or a quivering mass of tears and snot. Stephanie, on the other hand, was putting on a great show of composure, in spite of the tension in her neck and the fear in her eyes.

Vargas nodded again and Hulkman removed the knife from her throat, allowing her to scramble out. Her legs wobbled, forcing her to lean against the van door, and her eyes rotated back and forth from Carlos to Vargas.

"Babe," Carlos said, capturing her attention, "I want you to take the Explorer back to New Brunswick. I've got some business here and they'll bring me back when we're finished. Okay?"

Stephanie nodded and as she opened her mouth to speak Carlos interrupted. "Do you have your cell phone with you?"

Stephanie turned and snatched her bag out of the back of the van, digging in it until she came up with the phone. When she held it out Carlos nodded. "Go," he said. "The keys are in the truck."

She gave him a single nod and began to walk around the back of the Explorer without sparing a glance for Vargas or Hulkman.

"_Babe."_ Contempt dripped from Vargas's voice and stopped her cold. "No cops, or Carlos won't come home again. Ever."

Stephanie nodded without turning back to face him and muttered something under her breath that Carlos thought might have been, "Fuck you, asshole."

As he watched her drive away the tension left his body. Now it was up to him. He turned his eyes to Vargas. "What do you want with me?"

_TBC_


	61. So Long, So Long 4

**So Long, So Long 4**

As Stephanie drove out of the Crabster's parking lot her knees began shaking so hard she could barely control the accelerator. The second she was far enough from the restaurant to be certain the bad guys could no longer hear the engine she had to pull over. Gripping the top of the steering wheel with both hands she put her head down into her arms. The knife at her throat, the gun pointed at her, the ligatures on her wrists and ankles, the gag cutting into her face, everything exploded inside her, bursting out in a firestorm of tears and sobs.

Oh, God, what was Carlos into?

As the shaking subsided, the worry replaced it. What should she do? Should she go back? Could she help, or would she just distract Carlos enough to get him hurt?

After a couple of minutes of wondering and worrying, she decided to do exactly as Carlos asked, go back to New Brunswick. He'd said he'd be back, and he'd made sure she had her cell phone, so maybe he'd call.

But after that experience she didn't know how she could just go back to life the way it was before.

There was a man walking down the sidewalk toward her, hurrying as the impending storm neared, and the sight of him punched into her chest, compressing her lungs. He was almost there. She jerked trembling fingers down on the lock button, not caring if he heard the click as the doors locked. Sure, he looked harmless, like a nice guy, but then so had the horrible man who kidnapped her.

She had to get out of here, get back to New Brunswick where there were people, lights, deadbolt locks. Putting the car back in gear she swung out into the light traffic and aimed for New Brunswick.

_oOo_

Heavy clouds blanketed the sky, turning dusk to dark. The streetlight at the back of the parking lot came on, but its pallid illumination was no defense against the early nightfall.

"What do you want with me?" Lightning flickered again as Carlos crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the fence behind the van, the very epitome of casual nonchalance. His gun dug into the small of his back, the discomfort comforting.

Instead of answering him, Vargas lowered his gun and transferred it to his left hand, using his right to extract a cell phone from his pocket and punch a single button with his thumb. Hulkman stood sentinel at the side of the van, a barricade between Carlos and the most direct escape route.

"Luigi," Vargas said into the phone, his eyes never leaving Carlos. "We need a sit-down, tonight… I've got something for you… Not on the phone … A new venture, big action… Okay, ten."

He put the phone back in his pocket and gestured the gun toward the back of the van. "Get in."

Carlos didn't move, but he allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up a fraction and a gleam of avarice to shine from his eyes. "If we're going to convince Luigi to move in on the Giordanos, we're going to need some compelling arguments. Tell me what you have in mind."

Vargas grinned. "I knew you were the guy for the job." He relaxed and sat down on the edge of the van's cargo area facing Carlos, crossing his arms over his chest but still holding the gun loose in his left hand.

"As soon as I found out you were in New Brunswick I thought of it. It could be huge, the potential for major earnings, and you'd keep a big piece of it."

"I can always use more capital." Carlos nodded his approval, encouraging. He needed to know what Vargas was planning and how many other people were involved.

"Do you know Roberto Rossi out of the Newark campus?"

Carlos lifted a shoulder, feigning disinterest to cover the dread in the pit of his stomach. "Know of him." Rossi ran a prostitution ring of college girls. Word was he kept them in line with drugs and his fists.

"Big action, one of Luigi's top takes."

Carlos nodded, understanding now, feeling sick. "And you want me to run some girls out of New Brunswick."

Vargas's eyes positively glowed. "You'd be perfect for it. You just fuck them a few times, then bring another guy in, do a double, or just watch, and you've got them. Maybe take some pictures just to keep them in line, something to hold over them." Greed filled his face. "You've got a way with the carnalas, bro, and we can all get rich off it." As Carlos's handler, Vargas would get a big piece of the proceeds, with a smaller piece going to Luigi DeCalva.

Carlos's stomach was churning, but his mind still worked. "What does Luigi say about it?"

"That's what tonight's meet is about. I needed you in first." Vargas bobbed his head. "You're a bright one. Help me work it out and convince Luigi. It'll make me, and if it works out you'll be made, too, and get rich doing it."

Carlos nodded, maintaining the pretense. "Let's go somewhere, get something to eat and talk it over. That way we'll have a comprehensive plan for Luigi later." As he spoke a blinding flash of lightning cut through the darkness, followed immediately by a sharp clap of thunder. Fat raindrops began to spit from the low sky, splotching the pavement.

Vargas grinned as he stood, shoving his gun back in his pocket. "Glad to have you on board, bro, but you get the back." He jerked his head at the cargo area and hustled forward to hop in the driver's seat as the raindrops thickened to a cascade.

"No sweat," Carlos muttered, leaning on his knuckles as he climbed into the back, not touching anything with his open hand. By the time Hulkman slammed the doors and got around to the passenger seat it was a deluge, the inside of the van echoing with the drubbing of raindrops on the roof.

Vargas started the engine, then swung sideways in the driver's seat to aim gleeful eyes at Carlos through the diamond-shaped openings in the metal gate that separated them. "We can start with the curly-haired puta. You've already got her prepped, and I don't know what it is about her, but I'm hot as hell to fuck her up and down sideways. Let's do her together. Bet she's got a virgin ass. Dibs on the back door." He winked. "It's going to be a lot of fun getting her ready to work."

His lascivious grin brought the rage ripping and roaring out of Carlos's chest, and as soon as Vargas turned away Carlos had his gun in his hand. In an instant he'd weighed, analyzed, considered and come to a decision. There was no other possible outcome to this business.

Quick as a striking snake he stuck the barrel of the gun through the metal grating and put a bullet into the brain of Mario Vargas. Without pausing he pulled the gun back, shifted it to the right and as Hulkman turned, confused by the sharp retort of the weapon, shot him in the face. Then, as his stomach rebelled he burst out through the side door of the van and dropped to his hands and knees in the downpour, puking his guts out.

_TBC_


	62. So Long, So Long 5

**So Long, So Long 5**

Drenched and sodden, Carlos heaved himself up from the puddle-laden asphalt of the parking lot, already calculating his next move, organizing the necessary steps in his mind, trying to separate himself from what he'd just done. Chilly rain still poured down, and he welcomed the symbolic washing away of the ugliness of the past few minutes.

In spite of his youthful gang affiliation, he'd never killed before. His initiation rite into the Newark Bloods had been what they called "courting in," hand-to-hand combat with three older, more experienced gang members for sixty seconds. He'd been young and quick enough to pass the test with just bruises to show for it, no kill required.

But he did know how to dispose of a body. Vargas had seen to that last winter, picking him up in this very van, a dead guy rolled in a sheet of plastic in the cargo area. Just the one time, but Carlos remembered every grisly detail.

In spite of the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he remembered to pull the sleeve of his sweatshirt down over his hand when he opened the back doors of the van, wiping the handles to remove any fingerprints. The compartment under the floor contained everything he'd need, he was relieved to see. A folding shovel, a package of plastic dropcloths, several flashlights and a pair of oil-stained leather work gloves.

After tying his dripping hair back and donning the gloves, he checked his wet sweatshirt for stray hairs. It wouldn't do to leave DNA in the van. Stephanie had been held by Hulkman then tied up, so it was doubtful she'd left fingerprints, but he'd wipe down the back to make sure. The filthy canvas tarp she'd lain on would have to go, as well.

The downpour was easing, the rainfall more moderate now as he hopped down from the back and went around to the driver's door. He leaned in just far enough to snag the keys, careful not to touch the slumped body of Vargas, and slammed the door shut the second he was finished. But the glimpse was enough to tell him both Vargas and Hulkman were dead, sightless eyes open and already beginning to cloud over. The 25-caliber ammunition had just enough power to go through the skull, mushrooming and losing velocity as it plowed through the brain and bounced around inside the head. Not a good gun for distance shooting, but very effective at close range. Instantaneous death with no messy exit wounds, almost no blood.

Retrieving his duffel bag and climbing back into the cargo area Carlos pulled the doors shut with a clang, slapping home the lock. He used the small key on the ring to open the padlock that secured the retractable metal security screen and accordioned it to one side. Fifteen minutes later both bodies were wrapped in plastic sheets in the back and covered by the dirty tarp.

He closed and re-locked the metal gate from the front and collapsed into the driver's seat, still fighting nausea. But he was calm. He knew exactly what to do next.

_oOo_

Stephanie sat in front of the TV in the living room of the apartment in New Brunswick, not really paying attention, but not listening to Amy and her other apartment mates chatting, either. They tried to include her in their conversation, but after a few attempts and some whispers in the kitchen they gave up. When she'd returned to the apartment with her suitcase the day before she'd told Amy Carlos needed some space, let her think it was a breakup.

And perhaps it was, she thought, her heart tight, her stomach queasy. Lord knows she'd cried enough over it. She didn't know if their relationship could recover from something this traumatic. And yet she knew her life was better with him in it than without him. No matter how bad his past, how uncertain his future, she loved him and there was nothing she could do about it.

Exhausted from the ordeal of the day and the sleepless night previous, Stephanie went to bed early, but her sleep was disturbed, restless. She woke countless times during the night, checking her cell phone for messages each time, always disappointed. The distress wouldn't leave her alone, that constant gnawing terror that something bad had happened to Carlos, and she dozed in fitful snatches, gasping awake as her dreams forced her into the van, stuffed the dirty rag into her mouth, held the knife to her throat over and over again.

She finally dragged out of bed at six a.m., more tired than she'd been when she got in. Going to the kitchen she fixed herself a bowl of cereal, hoping it would settle her agitated stomach, but after two bites she dumped it down the drain. The news, she thought, she'd watch the news, praying there would be nothing, praying for Carlos. If he was okay, why hadn't he called?

By seven she couldn't stand it another minute, so she punched the speed dial on her phone.

_oOo_

After brushing the loose soil from the dirty leather gloves, Carlos threw the shovel as far into the woods as he could and kicked pine needles over the freshly turned earth. He was parked at the end of a dirt road in the Pine Barrens, an undeveloped area in the center of South Jersey. He had Vargas to thank for his knowledge of this ideal burial site with its soft, sandy soil, and it was only fitting that it should be the final resting place for Vargas and Hulkman.

The rain was still falling, light now, running like tears down his face.

He thought of Stephanie, wanting to call her and tell her he was okay, but he'd turned off his own cell phone, as well as those of Vargas and Hulkman while they were still in Point Pleasant. Cell phones were in constant communication with the towers that signaled them, and if he turned on his phone the police might be able to place him at the burial site. Not that he ever expected any suspicion to fall on him, but it was best to take every possible precaution.

Back in the van he drove southeast until he came to the Atlantic City Expressway, turning onto the ramp marked "Camden, Philadelphia." A few miles later he saw the signs for the rest area and took the exit. Avoiding the security cameras near the restaurant and service station, he pulled up to the trash can farthest from the building and reached behind him for the tarp. Folded and then rolled into a compact bundle, it disappeared into the bin. One potentially incriminating item gone.

An hour later he drove through the burned out row houses and graffiti'd rubble of Camden, the most impoverished city in New Jersey. Right across the river from the Society Hill section of Philadelphia, it was in a whole different galaxy with its gangs, its abandoned buildings, its weedy empty lots. The picture of destitution and desperation.

Pulling over to the curb, Carlos turned off and removed the tracking receiver from the van's dashboard. It still showed his SUV on Bayard Street in New Brunswick, just across the street from Stephanie's apartment. The relief was overwhelming. She was safe, and would stay that way now that Vargas was gone.

The rain had stopped, the weather turned cold and windy as he stripped off his wet clothes outside the back of the van, changing into the hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants and running shoes from his duffel bag. At four a.m. the streets were dark and deserted, most of the streetlights shot out by the gangs, the buildings that weren't burned or demolished unoccupied, except possibly by junkies.

Carlos left the van with the window open, keys in it, and used a screwdriver from the storage compartment to remove the license plates, sticking them in his duffel with the tracker, the gun, the registration and insurance card from the glove compartment, and his wet clothes. He paused before removing the gloves to go over the steps in his mind, making sure he'd eradicated all traces of not only himself and Stephanie, but also Vargas and Hulkman from the van.

Satisfied, he set off walking, duffel in hand. A few blocks away he dropped the two bullet casings from the fired shots down a storm sewer grating. When he reached Broadway the area got fractionally better, lower working class with corner stores, check cashing establishments, and small businesses eking out a subsistence-level living. He began dropping pieces of the disassembled gun, articles of clothing, and other items from the duffel into the trash cans he passed. When he reached the train station an hour later his duffel was empty, and he folded it in half and stuck it in a big, swingtop bin before boarding the train.

By the time he reached the New Brunswick station, he was crashing down from the adrenaline that had kept him going all night, but he managed to summon the energy to walk off the train, down to the street, turning on his cell phone as he did.

One voicemail. His heart contracted as he listened to Stephanie's heartbroken voice: "Are you okay?"

_TBC_


	63. So Long, So Long 6

**So Long, So Long 6**

It was only a few blocks from the train station to Bayard Street, and Carlos's long strides covered them in just minutes. His heart ached with the desire to see Stephanie; his loins ached with desire for her body.

But when he reached her building he stopped, crossing the street to lean against his SUV. He needed to be smart, to use his brains, not let his heart and his dick control him. He'd made up his mind during the excruciating night, and he knew what he had to do to protect Stephanie. It would be best for both of them if he didn't see her again.

But he couldn't let her go on worrying, wondering if he was dead or alive. He had to call her. Besides, she had his keys. He had a spare car key at his parents' house in Newark, but he was so exhausted that he just didn't have the energy to get back on the train. Stupid. If his brain had been working, if he hadn't been so tired after the ordeal of the night he'd have gone straight to his parents' house, slept for a few hours, picked up the spare key and then come back here for the truck.

He shook his head. He hadn't been thinking straight since he met Stephanie.

The tracker. He really wasn't thinking straight. He had to get rid of it, even though the receiver was smashed and in a trash can somewhere in Camden. He slid his hand underneath the back bumper, beginning at the driver's side and working his way along.

There.

He walked down the sidewalk to the corner where there was a street drain, dropped the tracking unit to the pavement and crushed it under his foot, kicking the remnants down into the sewer.

As he started back to where the Explorer was parked a group of three young women exited Stephanie's building. His heart quickened, but a fast scan revealed no brunette curls. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

He leaned on the SUV again, arms crossed. Stephanie had a nine o'clock class, so she should be leaving any minute. Once she was out of the apartment he'd go over and retrieve his keys. And then when he was away from New Brunswick, away from her irresistible draw, he'd call her, let her know he was okay.

He scanned the street for a good observation post, one where she wouldn't see him when she came out.

_oOo_

"Hey, Steph, are you going to class?" Amy asked Stephanie as she came back into their bedroom after eating breakfast. "It's time to leave."

"I'm cutting." Stephanie opened one eye and peered at her roommate. "I didn't sleep very well."

"I'm sorry you and Carlos are having problems," Amy said with ready sympathy. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Stephanie shook her head. "No, I'll be fine after a couple hours of sleep." Her mouth stretched in a gaping yawn. "Maybe I'll see you in Statistics this afternoon."

"Okay, sleep well." And Amy was gone.

Stephanie heard the murmur of voices through the closed bedroom door as Gina and Bunny prepared to walk to the campus with Amy. All four of them had nine o'clock classes on Wednesday, and Stephanie was relieved that the apartment would be empty all morning. Maybe she could finally get some restful sleep, make up for two bad nights in a row. Carlos would be okay, her natural optimism told her. Staying awake wouldn't help him, so she should just get some sleep.

Just as she was beginning to doze off her phone rang. Her heart leaping in her chest, she grabbed it, thinking only, Carlos.

But the caller ID showed it was Amy.

Stephanie clicked it on. "Hey."

"Hey," Amy replied. "I just thought you might like to know Carlos is outside."

"What?" He didn't call because he was coming, Stephanie thought. "What's he doing?"

"I saw him walking down Bayard and now he's leaning against a black SUV staring at our building."

"Thanks, Amy." Stephanie raced to the window just in time to see Carlos walking away down the sidewalk. Disappointment crushed her heart like a lead weight. He wasn't coming.

But then he turned into a recessed doorway. She watched for a few minutes and took in the impression of a shadowy silhouette through the two perpendicular panes of glass. He was just standing there. Waiting for her, she thought.

Without a care for the chilliness of the morning, she went racing out of the apartment, down the three flights of stairs two at a time and through the front doors, barefoot and clad only in Carlos's black t-shirt and a pair of panties. She ran across the street without even looking for traffic and was in front of the doorway in seconds. Carlos was there, leaning back against the doorframe, hands in his pockets.

She was about to throw herself onto him when his expression, or rather the lack of it, stopped her, arms extended. His face was hard, cold, set in stone.

"Carlos," she gasped, out of breath from running. "What happened to you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said in a monotone. "I just came to get my keys."

She dropped her arms back to her side. "Why didn't you come in?"

"I was going to call. I have to go away."

Stephanie's heart cracked, crumbled into pieces. "Well I saw you, so you might as well come in now. Your keys are upstairs."

Carlos gave a minute head movement that she took to be a nod

Unable to stop herself, she moved close, framing his face in her hands, staring into those blank brown eyes. She brushed feathery light lips over his tight-clamped mouth and her teeth chattered from the cold, she shivered from shock.

"You're freezing," Carlos said, and the emptiness in his eyes faded away to be replaced by fatigue, heartbreak… and finally love. His warm hands went to her waist, around her hips and lifted her up against his heat, his hardness.

"There you are," she murmured, wrapping her legs around him, and her lips parted for his mouth. His arms locked around her and holding her tight he strode across the street, up to her apartment and straight to bed.

Their lovemaking was bittersweet, and as the tears flowed down her cheeks Stephanie was shocked to discover his tears mingling with hers. Afterward, spent and weary, they clung together and fell into exhausted sleep.

_oOo_

Carlos lay silent and still, reluctant to leave the comfort of Stephanie's embrace. But he'd made his decision in the darkness of the night as he dug the deep grave in the sandy soil of the Pine Barrens. It had been a mistake to come back here, but where Stephanie was concerned he was a fool.

The sun had traversed the heavens and a square of afternoon light shone on the bedroom floor, its brightness unable to lighten the darkness of his soul. He had to get going. The only way to keep Stephanie safe was to leave her, and much as that would hurt both of them, he couldn't forgive himself for what had happened to her. He wasn't taking any more chances.

He slipped out of bed without disturbing her and got dressed. A pile of notebooks sat on her desk and he turned to a fresh page to scrawl a note. "Dinner? I'll pick you up at 7." By then his decision would be irrevocable, and no matter what he felt for her, how much pain it caused her, it would be too late.

He set the notebook on the floor beside the bed, took his keys from the desk and left the apartment in stealthy silence, not wanting to give Stephanie the chance to change his mind. She was his weakness, and he had to be strong to protect her, to give her a chance for a happy life.

As he drove, the events of the summer replayed in his head, the grace that Stephanie had brought into his life. She'd made him a better person, and he hoped he could hang onto that through the days ahead, endless days, the rest of eternity without her.

He knew exactly where he was going, Route 18 to East Brunswick. A few minutes later he was climbing out of the Explorer, looking up at the sign: "U.S. Armed Forces Career Center."

Carlos squared his shoulders and walked through the door.

**TBC in Part 7—Currents**


	64. Currents 1

_A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who voted for D&S, and my other stories, too, on the pp Countdown. And thanks for the reviews and all your support. Hang in there, babes. This is the first of two parts where Carlos and Stephanie are separated, but I promise they'll get back together down the road!_

_Warning: Lots of angst, smutty dream._

**Part 7—Currents**

_If it is born in flames then we should let it burn  
Burn as brightly as we can  
And if it's gotta end then let it end in flames  
Let it burn all the way down_

_—Chris Carrabba_

1

_Nine weeks later, December_

Carlos awoke with a jerk, sticky with sweat and more, the heat of his ejaculation making his cock throb. Oh, shit, he thought, not again.

The dream was so real. The same dream haunted him again and again. Not every single night, but several times a week, especially on the nights he was most exhausted from the intense physical training of boot camp.

He was poised over Stephanie, his hands twisted in her curls, sucking her full lower lip into his mouth, nipping at it. She moaned and writhed beneath him. He moved down her body, tasting every inch, making her cry out his name as she came. And then he slid back up, their flesh slick, drenched with sweat and saliva and the juices of passion. He could taste her salty female sweetness on his tongue, coating his lips, and he pressed them to her mouth so she could taste herself.

And it always ended the same way. She was dripping and ready, open and awaiting him. He couldn't hold back another moment. He pressed himself against her and slid into the inferno. And every time he awoke with a jerk, coming in his boxers like a kid just reaching puberty.

At least he didn't cry out her name as he came. That only happened once, the first night he was here in the bunkroom, and somehow after that he'd schooled himself to silence. Now if he could only train himself to motionlessness as well.

It was full night still, but his internal clock told him it was just a few minutes to wake-up call. He arose, silent and invisible in the dark, snagged a pair of clean white boxers from his footlocker and drifted ghostlike to the head.

_oOo_

Gray clouds lowered in a threatening sky and fitful spits of icy rain began as Stephanie climbed down from the beat-up old pickup truck.

"Thanks for the ride, Lenny," she said. "See you tomorrow, Lou."

"I'll pick you up at ten." Mary Lou's voice was upbeat, as always, but her eyes crinkled in concern as her best friend walked away.

Stephanie turned and, head down, trudged up the sidewalk to the yellow half of the narrow duplex. Back home in the Burg, yet again. Thanksgiving here had been the long weekend from hell, and Christmas wasn't looking to be much better.

"Hi, Mom." Stephanie stretched her mouth into an imitation of a smile as she thumped her rolling suitcase up the two front steps. As usual her mother was waiting at the door for her. Sometimes Stephanie wondered how her mom always knew she was coming. Today, of course, she was expected.

"You've got dark circles under your eyes." Her mother looked her up and down. "And you're even thinner. You haven't got that awful disease where girls make themselves vomit so they don't gain weight, do you?"

"I'm glad to see you, too, Mom," Stephanie said, accustomed to the sharp scrutiny and harsh criticism, but still hurt by it. She thought she'd been looking forward to Christmas break as a time to relax, veg out, recover from the stresses of the semester just completed, but now it seemed as if the four weeks in Trenton were going to be endless.

Her sister, always calm, serene, gentle, might be a distraction for her mother, or just make Stephanie look worse in comparison. But it was better than being the solo focus of her mother's hawk-like attention. "Is Val home yet?" she asked.

"No, she won't be here until tomorrow." Her mother's eyes softened. "Steve is bringing her home from school and staying for dinner."

Oh, crap, the perfect Valerie would now be joined by the perfect boyfriend. They'd been dating for almost two years now and were both seniors at the College of New Jersey just outside Trenton. Well, that ought to keep her mother occupied, Stephanie thought.

"Dinner will be ready in a half hour," her mother told her, closing the door behind them. As if they weren't all conditioned like Pavlov's dogs to begin salivating on the stroke of six every evening.

Stephanie dragged her suitcase up the stairs to her bedroom and stared at herself in the mirror attached to the ancient low dresser. She did have dark circles under her eyes, she noted. Even a full complement of makeup couldn't disguise them.

She hadn't been sleeping well at all. She would awaken with a jerk several times during the night, panicked by some unremembered dream. Then she couldn't go back to sleep for ages, just lying there staring at the lines of light barred on the ceiling by the streetlight shining through the mini-blinds over her lonely bed in New Brunswick. She hadn't slept through a single night in more than two months, since Carlos left, she admitted to herself.

The thought of him, his name etched on her heart like the epitaph on a gravestone, caused an unbearable ache in her chest. She clamped both hands over her heart as tears filled her eyes. She couldn't think about him without remembering his beautiful face, stern and serious in the candlelight of their last dinner together. His voice, shattering her heart with the announcement that he'd enlisted and would be leaving that very night. His eyes, hard and cold as he told her not to bother writing, to forget about him and find someone else, someone who deserved her love.

After the drive back to her apartment, passed in stony silence, he'd left her on the sidewalk with a cursory hug and a brief kiss on the cheek, driving away without a backward glance.

Fisting the tears away in anger, she vowed not to think about Carlos anymore. It was over, and that was that. She grabbed her makeup bag and headed for the bathroom to repair her mascara before going down to set the table for dinner.

_oOo_

"For the first time in several years, there was a perfect score on the APFT," announced General Victor Gordon, commanding officer of Fort Benning. Ah, Carlos thought, that's why he'd been singled out and seated at the front table with some of the brass. The Army Physical Fitness Test was tough, but with all the training he'd done over the summer, the daily running and weight lifting, plus the weeks of conditioning at boot camp, it hadn't been all that difficult for him to score the perfect 300.

It was the closest Carlos had been to the General, and the weight of command showed in the lines carved into the tanned face. With erect demeanor, the very definition of military bearing, the general stood at the podium at the front of the mess hall, which was resplendent with white linen tablecloths and real china rather than the plastic trays Carlos was used to. He hadn't known what to expect of the Awards Supper, but it certainly hadn't been this display of finery.

"The award for physical fitness goes to… Carlos Manoso," the General announced, and Carlos stood at his place and saluted. After the general's responding salute and nod, Carlos sat back down, accepting the small box and certificate from the General's aide.

"Our next award is for basic rifle marksmanship," the general continued. "Also for the first time in several years, we've had a trainee qualify as expert level in BRM. With a score of 38 out of 40, the award goes to… Carlos Manoso."

Again Carlos stood, saluted, sat back down. The expert qualification gave him the opportunity to go on to the advanced marksmanship course and train as a sniper. But he was certain that Ranger School was what he wanted, so he was staying on course with the prerequisite infantry advanced training in preparation.

"Finally, the Gauntlet Award is for outstanding performance in the force-on-force maneuvers of the past two weeks. The recipient is the soldier who, in the opinion of the drill sergeants, best demonstrates leadership and exemplifies our seven core values—loyalty, duty, respect, selfless service, honor, integrity, and personal courage." The general paused and looked around the room. "The winner of the Gauntlet Award is… Carlos Manoso."

_TBC_


	65. Currents 2

**Currents 2**

The moment General Gordon's concluding remarks were over and the soldiers were dismissed, Carlos rose, intending to head straight for his barracks. But the General came toward him from the head table, holding out his hand.

"Congratulations, Soldier." The General's cool, dry hand pumped Carlos's own larger, warmer one with vigor. "I can't recall the last time the same soldier won all three awards. You're a credit to your class and to the Army."

"Thank you, sir." Carlos held his eyes steady on the general's blueberry ones, intimidated but determined not to show it.

"And I understand you're staying here at Benning for your AIT in infantry."

"Yes, sir. I hope to be accepted for Ranger School in the spring."

"I'm glad to hear that, son. If you keep up the same standard you've set for yourself so far, there's no doubt you'll be a leader of men in this man's army."

"Thank you, sir," Carlos said again.

With a pat on the shoulder and a casual salute the General turned and walked away, straight and imposing in his dress uniform, and Carlos turned to the shoulder claps, knuckle bumps and handshakes of his squad.

When he finally worked his way through the congratulatory chaos and aimed for the door, he was thunderstruck to see a smiling Tank leaning against the wall waiting for him. Although Tank was stationed at Fort Benning, in fact was an instructor in the woodland terrain phase of Ranger School, Carlos hadn't had any contact with him, or even called to let Tank know he'd enlisted. Carlos had arrived at Benning so full of resentment and fury at the sudden turn his life had taken, at the bitter end to his plans for the future, that he hadn't told anyone except Stephanie, his mother and his professors at Rutgers. He assumed his mother would have written and told Julio, but he didn't plan to let Tank bask in his success at convincing Carlos to enlist until it was absolutely necessary.

Well, Carlos thought, snapping into a formal salute, now is the time.

Tank gave him a cursory response to his salute and said, "At ease, Soldier," with a big, shit-eating grin.

"Good to see you, Master Sergeant." Carlos used Tank's rank, as befit an NCO, but relaxed enough to give a nod of acknowledgment.

"Congratulations, Carlos." Tank held out a suitcase-sized hand to swallow up Carlos's, shaking it with vigor. "I knew you'd make an outstanding soldier, and you're already proving me right."

They turned as one and walked out of the mess hall together. "How did you find out I was here?" Carlos asked.

"When someone gets a perfect score on the APFT, it gets around." Tank slapped him on the shoulder. "And when it's followed by an expert BRM score, well, let's just say you've been the topic of conversation in the NCO Club, probably in the CO Club, too."

Carlos didn't know what to say to that, so he remained silent, impassive.

"Big day tomorrow, turning blue," Tank continued. "Your parents and Stephanie coming down to cord you?" Turning Blue was a ceremony where soldiers were formally assigned to Infantry. Most often family members or another loved one attached the blue Infantry cord to the soldier's dress uniform.

Carlos's face remained blank. "No. Drill Sergeant Waters will do it."

Tank frowned. "Wouldn'ta thought Steph would miss your graduation."

"That's over." No expression.

Tank studied his face as they walked and seemed to read something there in spite of the flatness. He shook his head. "Idiot."

Carlos stiffened. "You don't know. Had to be."

"Bullshit," Tank responded. "But your choice. So what you doin' for the break? Goin' home?"

"No. Staying here."

Tank studied him again. "Gotta take leave," he said. "Why not go home, spend Christmas with your family?"

"Best I stay out of Jersey."

They'd reached Carlos's barracks and paused outside, Carlos trying to figure out how to get away from Tank's probing. Several from his battalion passed by and slapped him on the shoulder or shook his hand.

"Well, good to see you," Carlos said when there was a break in the congratulatory flow.

Tank seemed to make up his mind. "When I accepted the training job here I bought a little house. I was gonna spend the break finishin' off the basement for a rec room. Got a spare bedroom, and the bed's a whole shitload better than the bunks here." He held Carlos's eyes. "You can hammer nails, right? Why don't you spend your leave there, help me out?"

Carlos hesitated, and then gave in to the momentary weakness. It would be great to sleep in a real bed, and it would give him something to think about during the long days of leave besides Stephanie. He nodded. "Okay."

_oOo_

The next morning Mary Lou picked up Stephanie in the well-used car the Molnars had given her as a wedding present.

"Have you heard anything from Carlos since he left?" Mary Lou asked with a quick, sideways glance as she drove toward the mall.

Stephanie shook her head. "No, that's over and done with."

"I just can't believe he could leave like that," Mary Lou said. "It was perfectly obvious to even the most casual observer. He was totally and completely in love with you." In her just-married bliss Mary Lou wanted all her friends to find love.

"Apparently not, and I don't want to talk about it," Stephanie answered. The discussion brought memories of the kidnapping back, and she suppressed a shiver of fear. She couldn't tell anyone about it, not only because it might put Carlos in danger, but also because then she might have to deal with it. Denial was much easier, and she buried the recollection beneath thoughts of what gifts she wanted to buy her family for Christmas.

Late that afternoon Valerie and Steve, the perfect couple, arrived in a flurry of activity, and as hoped, took her mother's focus away from Stephanie. Her mom had almost literally killed the fatted calf to celebrate Valerie's homecoming, serving a veal roast she referred to as "Vitello Tonnato," the Hungarian showing in her attempted Italian pronunciation. It sounded like they were eating a mob boss, Stephanie thought with a smirk that disappeared almost before it formed as the handsome sneering face of the guy who'd kidnapped her twisted into her brain. She'd never learned his name, but Vitello Tonnato would ever wear that face in her mind. She laid down her fork, unable to eat any more.

"I'll clear the table while you get the dessert," the model daughter Valerie said to Mrs. Plum when everyone else was finished.

"No, no, you sit and keep Steve company," her mother urged. "Stephanie will clear."

Stephanie got up and collected the plates, taking her time scraping and rinsing them in the kitchen sink while her mother carried her pride and joy chocolate cake into the dining room. Stephanie's stomach was still a little queasy from the memory of the kidnapping that had ambushed her during dinner, and she didn't want any dessert.

"Stephanie, what are you doing out there?" Her mother poked her head back in through the swinging door to the kitchen. "Come back to the table. Valerie and Steve have something to tell us."

It was inevitable, Stephanie thought, plastering on a smile and admiring the diamond ring that Steve slipped on Valerie's finger.

She excused herself to her room the moment the dishes were done and lay on her bed, overcome with ennui and bitter thoughts. Saint Valerie was getting her happily ever after, and spawn-of-Satan Stephanie had gotten exactly what she deserved for dating the dark-skinned Cuban, crushed and dumped. All was right with the fricking Burg world.

_oOo_

"Ricardo Carlo Manoso," announced the Bird Colonel who was conducting the Infantry induction ceremony. "Turning Blue" was unexpectedly moving, and Carlos couldn't stop himself from thinking about Stephanie as he watched beaming wives and girlfriends and mothers attach the blue infantry cords to the shoulders of their soldiers' uniforms and hug them tight. Only a couple of others had no family present, and like him, had asked their drill sergeant to do the honors.

Carlos walked across the stage from his place in line and saluted, hiding the surprise he felt. Holding the blue cord and beaming at him from his place beside the Colonel was Tank. He attached the cords, clapped Carlos on both shoulders and rumbled, "Proud of you, Soldier."

_TBC_


	66. Currents 3

**Currents 3**

_Four months later, April_

"Aww, come on, Carlos, all you ever do is study." Lester put on his best pleading face. "This is the first off-post pass we've had, and you're going to spend it taking exams? Spring has sprung, bro, and a young man's fancy turns to… fucking!"

"Sorry, Les, no go." Carlos had already made plans to spend his weekend off at Tank's house where there was a computer and internet connection.

His powers of persuasion had been tested to the limit when he left Rutgers the previous October, spending an entire day convincing half a dozen business professors to allow him to finish their courses remotely and take enough additional credits during the spring semester to complete his degree. The Economics professor had sat Carlos down and given him an oral final exam right then and there, one much more difficult than any written exam, discussing not only economics, but the history, theories, Carlos's own thoughts. Since Carlos had read the entire textbook over a couple of evenings while Stephanie struggled with her homework, he'd aced it without even breaking a sweat, and that professor offered him the opportunity to take any course he taught as a self-study, just doing a final exam online when Carlos was ready.

"Coolio, talk to him." Lester hadn't given up yet. "His chick magnetism will guarantee you an endless supply of his rejects, all gorgeous and willing. Of course," he added, "I don't need any help in that pursuit myself, and probably my own personal rejects will be sufficient for you, but it certainly doesn't hurt to have the hottest guy on base along to guarantee quantity _and_ quality."

Carlos wanted to sigh, but he kept his exhale silent. "Forget it, Les. I'm applying for OCS in the fall, and I want to finish my degree from Rutgers before then." Even though he had enough credits to be admitted to Officers Candidate School, he didn't want anything hanging over his head when it was over. Airborne School, then Ranger School followed almost immediately by officer training followed by placement as a Ranger platoon leader wouldn't leave time for any additional coursework.

"Shit, Carlos, you haven't had a woman in months. Aren't you sick of greasing the monkey? Don't you want a genuine oil change after all this time?" Lester's vocabulary, always colorful, had received an exponential boost from almost eight months in the army.

"Let him be, Les," Julio said. He'd grown another inch and filled out his skinny frame with muscle mass during boot camp and infantry training, and he was now very near Carlos's own height and build.

"We don't need him," Julio continued. "Catch you later, bro." And he dragged a protesting Lester away.

Julio still hadn't forgiven Carlos for breaking up with Stephanie. Along with Mary Lou's wedding pictures had come a long, newsy letter that mentioned how hard Stephanie was taking the break-up. It had missed Julio at Fort Jackson and been re-routed, so he hadn't received it until after he arrived at Fort Benning in January for Infantry School. A week after their back-slapping reunion Julio came to Carlos, letter in hand, fury on his face.

"How could you hurt her like that?" Julio's fists were clenched and for a moment Carlos thought he was going to hit him.

Carlos held up his hands, palms out, appeasing. "You don't know the whole story. I had to. She was in danger, and it was the only way to protect her."

The anger on Julio's face faded. "Are you going back to her?"

Carlos felt the small lurch of his heart as he considered the possibility and was surprised by his own answer. "Someday."

_oOo_

"Steph, someone's at the door for you," called Bunny, tapping on Stephanie's bedroom door and then poking her head in.

The warm scent of spring, damp earth and blooming hyacinths, drifted through the open window as Stephanie looked up from the textbook spread wide on her desk. "Who is it?"

"It's a gu-uy," Bunny sing-songed, hanging halfway through the door. "And he's cu-ute."

Carlos. Stephanie couldn't control the flow of her mind, and even six months and eight days after he'd left her, not that she was counting, mind you, thoughts of him were never far below the surface.

But it couldn't be him, she decided as she rose and tugged down the hem of her short t-shirt to meet the top of her study-night plaid boxers. Bunny said cute, not drop dead gorgeous. And she wasn't stuttering or gaping open-mouthed like a fish, so no way. Besides, there was no buzz in Stephanie's chest, no throb of her blood in her veins, no shiver up her spine. She didn't feel anything at all. Not Carlos.

Stephanie glanced at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. She looked okay, she thought, unruly hair tamed into a ponytail, legs shaved, some makeup still remaining from the day's application. The dark circles beneath her eyes had dissipated when she finally began sleeping through full nights again the last couple of months. And though she'd regained little of the lost weight, she was comfortable with her slim figure.

She slouched through the door and clamped her jaw tight when she saw who was waiting just inside the apartment door, his hands clutched together at his waist.

Dickie Orr.

Stephanie hadn't seen Dickie since the night Carlos and Tank escorted him from her bedroom in the Point Pleasant apartment, the same bedroom where she'd enjoyed a few short weeks of blissful happiness with Carlos before he enlisted and discarded her as easily as he flushed his used condoms. Though she had to give Carlos credit, she supposed. He'd paid the entire rent on the place before he left and told her it was all hers for the duration of the lease. She'd never been able to face going back there, though, and without a car it wasn't practical to try to live so far from campus. She'd managed to sublet it for the last three months and mailed a check to Carlos at Fort Benning, looking up the address on the Internet. It hadn't been returned, but neither had it been cashed, and the only thing she could imagine was that he'd tossed it in the trash without opening it when he saw the return address.

"Steph, I haven't come to bother you." Dickie's words interrupted the rapid flow of Stephanie's thoughts and the plethora of expressions, none happy, cascading across her mobile face. "I just have something to say to you, and then I'll go."

Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest, an instinctive gesture of self-protection. "What do you want to say?"

"Can we sit for a minute?" Dickie released his hands and waved one at the couch.

"Sure," Stephanie answered, and her Burg manners took over. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thanks." Dickie seated himself and Stephanie took the easy chair opposite him, raising her eyebrows in question.

Dickie cleared his throat. "I'm not sure if you realized it, but I had a bit of a drinking problem."

He looked at Stephanie and she nodded encouragement to continue, thinking to herself, no shit, Sherlock.

"A few months ago, after Christmas, I started going to AA." Dickie leaned forward, forearms on his knees, earnestness on his face.

"Good for you," Stephanie said.

"I've got a sponsor, a really nice guy, and he's helping me work my way through the twelve steps." Dickie patted the breast pocket of his short-sleeved blue shirt. "One of the things I've done is made a list of the people I've harmed with my drinking, and I'm trying to make amends wherever possible."

Stephanie wrinkled her forehead. She and Dickie had only dated for a couple of months, and he hadn't really harmed her, though he had bruised her wrist and scared her a bit that last night. But that was the night Carlos first made love to her, and she hadn't spared another thought for Dickie since that moment.

"You didn't really harm me," she said.

"Well," Dickie said, "I kind of did." He inhaled, exhaled, inhaled again. "This is harder than I expected."

"Just say it," she told him, squirming with discomfort, wanting it to be over.

"When I was dating you last year, I was cheating, having sex with other women."

Stephanie's mouth fell open. But then she considered. She'd met Carlos while she was still dating Dickie, and they'd never been able to keep their hands off each other. "We were just dating a little, Dickie," she assured him. "We never made any kind of commitment, never promised to be exclusive. And I started seeing another guy, too. So there's no harm, no foul."

Dickie sighed with relief and rose from the couch. "Well, I'm glad you feel that way, but I still want to say I'm sorry, especially for the way it ended. I like you a lot and I hope we can be friends."

"Sure."

"Maybe I'll see you around," Dickie said as he walked to the door.

"Yeah, see you." Stephanie closed the door behind him.

_TBC_


	67. Currents 4

**Currents 4**

_Four months later, August_

Carlos ran flat out through the suffocating density of the humid jungle night. He was swift and silent as a panther, leaving just the faintest whisper of leaves in his wake, adrenaline pumping through every muscle in his body. Five miles flashed past his eyes and the first faint light of dawn began to brighten the sky above the high canopy of trees before he stopped and removed his night vision goggles, his camouflage invisible in the heavy foliage.

His first mission, complete. His sergeant and the rest of his squad would be waiting at the pickup zone. As squad leader, he'd volunteered for the most dangerous task himself, infiltrating the enemy camp during the deepest, darkest part of the night, disabling all communications. He'd crept through the jungle, crouched low, and waited until the time was right. The lone guard, leaning against a tall tree half-asleep, hadn't heard a sound, caught a glimpse, felt any sense of his presence as he slipped by, moving through the encampment like a breath of breeze.

Carlos clicked his communicator three times, indicating mission accomplished. He didn't know why the brass needed the enemy base silenced, nor did he know what was coming next, though he suspected some sort of attack. He'd be long gone by that time. That was a big part of the reason he was fixed on becoming an officer, so that he'd know the whys, be involved in the planning as well as the execution of covert operations. To his mind the worst part of being a soldier was following orders without question. Being an outstanding example of military discipline, he did it, but he didn't like it. His natural intelligence and analytical aptitude was wasted in the rank and file, and he knew his abilities would best serve Uncle Sam in a leadership capacity.

The whomp-whomp-whomp of the chopper beat through the jungle like a full battalion of native drums, and Carlos entered the clearing to join his squad as they clambered aboard. His adrenaline rush began to dissipate as he watched the young soldiers of his team nod off against the vibrating metal walls in the cargo bay, and he knew he'd soon join them in sleep.

It was at times like this, his body spent and exhausted but his mind not quite ready to relax, that he couldn't help but think about Stephanie. More and more during his training he'd observed his teammates, some married, a few even with children. He'd seen the emotions, the mix of joy and sadness on their faces after phone calls, off-base passes, weekend leaves. And more and more he'd thought, if they can maintain a relationship, a marriage, fatherhood, why can't I?

He'd just turned twenty-one, an adult in every sense. He wondered how Stephanie would feel about leaving home, moving to base housing, perhaps moving from base to base, year by year. Would she be willing to do that, to remain alone for long stretches while he was away on missions? Would she survive if one day he failed to return?

And then his analytical mind turned the problem around. Was it fair to her to assume she'd be better off without him? Wasn't it right to present her with the option, give her the opportunity to make up her own mind?

As he leaned against the cold steel of the chopper, helmet throbbing with noise and vibration, earplugs protecting his hearing, he made up his mind. He had a week's leave coming before he began OCS. He'd go back to Jersey and see her.

Decision made, he dropped into sleep like a stone.

_oOo_

"I've never been happier," Tina confided, huddled with Stephanie and Mary Lou at a table in the corner of the Elk's Lodge in Trenton. Stephanie tried to hide the doubt she was feeling, the fear that Tina was going to get hurt again, and even worse this time. But something must have shown in her face, because Tina said, "I love him, Steph, and he loves me. He's been faithful as a puppy dog for eight months, and he promised on his father's grave that he'd never cheat on me again."

Tina had gotten back together with Louis Morelli the previous Christmas and everyone who was anyone in the Burg was here to celebrate their engagement. Tina's finger glittered with a big, square-cut diamond, and her olive complexion glowed pink with happiness and love.

Stephanie was glad for her, really, she kept telling herself. Tina had one more year of nursing school to go, all clinical work at several different area hospitals, and she'd take her RN exam in June of next year. She'd chosen a wedding date a year from now, late August, and Stephanie and Mary Lou were already lined up to be bridesmaids, with Tina's older sister Connie as matron of honor.

As Louis came to claim Tina for a dance, Connie's laughing face caught Stephanie's attention. She was dark-haired and buxom, built like Tina only even more so, a little rounder, a little more vivid in coloring, a brilliant red dress standing out among the more conservative pastels worn by most of the women. The sight of Connie flashed Stephanie's mind back to Point Pleasant a year ago when Connie and Valerie had come to the apartment and caught Stephanie and Carlos in bed. She heard Carlos's voice in her head: "I'd have known you're Tina's sister. You look just like her."

Stephanie's hand drifted to her chest, rubbing the ache there that never seemed to diminish, was a living presence inside her whenever she was reminded of Carlos, then moved up to trace the heart-shaped sapphire necklace that she still wore. She just couldn't seem to get over him and had refused more dates than she could remember over the past ten months. Why was it that when you were brokenhearted and in love with someone you couldn't have, you were all of a sudden so attractive to the opposite sex?

Stephanie dragged her mind back, ordered herself to forget about Carlos. She studied Connie, face flushed with pleasure as her new husband spun her around the dance floor. Both Valerie and Steve had been in Connie's wedding in June, and Stephanie had attended with her parents, refusing a date with the groom's younger brother, whom she suspected just wanted to take advantage of her. Too many guys thought the movie _Wedding Crashers_ was real and tried to pick up girls at weddings for sex.

Valerie and Steve were whirling around in intricate steps, showing off the ballroom dancing lessons Miss Perfect Val had insisted Steve take with her. Their wedding was just six months away, the day before Valentine's Day, and Stephanie would be maid of honor. Everyone was getting married, she thought, Mary Lou last fall, then Connie, with Val's wedding coming up, followed by Tina's. Wasn't there an old saying, three times a bridesmaid, never a bride? Tina would be her third, though technically she'd been maid of honor for Mary Lou and would be for Val, too. She wondered if that counted as bridesmaid.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a male voice. "Dance?"

A long-fingered, tanned hand extended to her and before she came to full awareness her hand was captured and she was swaying on the dance floor, held firm in strong, lean arms against a rangy, athletic body. She stiffened as she realized who she was dancing with and tried to pull away.

"Aw, come on, Cupcake," his amused voice murmured in her ear. "You've got to forgive me sometime."

"No I don't. And _don't call me Cupcake._" Stephanie yanked her hand from his, jerked away from his embracing arm and stalked back to her seat, leaving Joseph Morelli standing alone on the dance floor, a perplexed smile on his face.

_TBC_


	68. Currents 5

**Currents 5**

_Two weeks later_

Carlos awoke with a start in the early morning dark, taking a moment before he realized he wasn't in his bunk at Benning. The oft-washed sheets covering the twin bed were soft against his bare chest, and he was reminded of the king-sized sheets he'd bought in Point Pleasant for the pushed-together bunk beds. He wondered whatever happened to them, if Stephanie had gone back after he enlisted to pick up the last of their joint possessions. He couldn't imagine her sleeping alone in that big bed.

In his wallet like talismans he carried his few material reminders of their time together. A ragged-edged pair of photos of the two of them, half of the strip of four taken in one of the boardwalk photo booths. They'd fooled around, laughing as the flash flared, posed smiling check-to-cheek in the first snap and locked together in an open-mouthed kiss in the second. He wondered if Stephanie still had the other two, both of them grinning at each other as they broke off the kiss in the third photo and lost in each other's eyes in the last.

Stephanie's check for the subletting of the Point Pleasant apartment was folded into an inner compartment. It had nearly ripped his heart in two when he opened the envelope bearing her name and return address to find no letter, not even a note, just the check with her signature and a notation in the memo line, "Pt Plsnt sublet." He couldn't bring himself to cash it, nor could he throw it away. He just kept it, one more reminder of what he'd had, what he'd given up.

The last thing he'd kept was the Batman logo keychain, her gift to him for his twentieth birthday. It was tucked into one of the photo slots, making his wallet thick and heavy, the weight of lost love always with him.

It was very early, too early to get up and begin his planned activities for the day. Carlos was so used to waking up early that he couldn't sleep past five, even on his days off, not even here in the bed of his childhood, in the room he'd shared with Julio until he got sent to juvie at age fifteen.

He'd never realized that juvie record for grand theft auto, sealed once he was released, would come back to haunt him. Even expunged juvenile records were sufficient cause for denial of admission to Officers Candidate School, something he hadn't known until he began the paperwork. He thanked his lucky stars for Tank's advice and the good will of General Gordon, who'd taken the necessary steps to have the juvenile conviction waived. Next Monday morning, a week from today, he'd begin his officer training, and by Christmas he'd be commissioned a second lieutenant. With the additional salary that came with the rank he'd be able to afford to live off base.

Carlos lay in bed, silent and still until he heard his mother moving around in the kitchen, and then he rose and went down to join his parents for breakfast.

Later, after showering and donning his dress uniform, he dropped to his knees in front of his closet. On the floor far in the back was the duffel bag full of cash he'd left there the previous fall when he'd come to tell his mother that he'd joined the Army. A small padlock fastened it shut to keep casual prying eyes from seeing the fruit of his illegal activities. He transferred the money to a businesslike briefcase, picked it up and walked three blocks to catch a city bus. A bus, transit train and subway ride later he was walking down Fifth Avenue in Manhattan and through the gleaming glass doors of Tiffany and Company.

A well-dressed gentleman with thinning brown hair focused in on the uniform, the briefcase, the military mien and came scurrying over. "May I help you, sir?"

Carlos nodded. "I'd like to look at engagement rings."

_oOo_

Stephanie's phone rang at five-thirty Tuesday morning, awakening her from a dead sleep. She lurched from lying down to standing in a fraction of a second, punched the button to answer the call and then slumped back down on the edge of the bed, dizzy and a bit nauseous. A call this early couldn't be good news.

"Hello," she said, not knowing who was calling from the ringtone, hoping it was a wrong number.

"Stephanie, this is your mother."

"Mom, where are you? What's wrong?"

"We're at the hospital, St. Francis. Dad… your grandpa had a heart attack."

It was impossible to imagine the powerful personality of her grandfather sick, hurt, in the hospital, anywhere, really, other than sitting at the dining room table telling everyone what was what, and why.

"Is he…" Stephanie stopped herself from asking if he was alive. "…going to be okay?"

"They're admitting him to the coronary care unit. We won't know anything for sure until later, but it was bad. I think you'd better come… just in case."

"I can get a train, get to Trenton in a few hours, take a taxi from the station. Or if you want me there sooner, maybe Daddy can come pick me up."

"Hold on a minute, the nurse is here."

Her mother must have been on the pay phone in the Emergency Room, because Stephanie could hear voices, monitors beeping, the clatter of equipment during the endless minutes until her mother came back.

"Stephanie, can you be ready to leave in a half hour? I found you a ride."

_oOo_

Carlos's mother had pulled together a big family dinner Monday evening to celebrate his unexpected homecoming, and by the time all his siblings and the multitude of nieces and nephews left, he decided it was too late to go see Stephanie. But first thing tomorrow, he thought, lying in his bed aching for the soft satin of her skin, the mango scent of her shower gel, the heat that surrounded him as he slid into her.

He awoke at five in the morning and didn't waste any time. By five-thirty he was clean shaven and scrubbed, dressed in civvies and driving his mother's old dark-blue Chevy toward New Brunswick, the weight of the Tiffany box in his pocket firming his resolve.

Dawn was breaking just after six as he parked in a loading zone across the street from the apartment building on Bayard Street, observing the lighted window that had been Stephanie's bedroom last year. Whether it was still her room he was uncertain, but he knew she was in this apartment again. Julio had been writing to her, and once he realized how much Carlos continued to care about her, he let Carlos read her letters.

The light in the bedroom went out. But being this close, Carlos found he couldn't wait any longer. He had to see Stephanie, to touch her, to hold her, even if it meant waking her up. Somebody was up anyway, he thought.

As he reached for the door handle, the front door of the apartment building opened and a couple walked out. The man, tall and broad-shouldered, had his arm around the slender young woman, supporting her, and her head leaned against his shoulder.

When they moved from the shelter of the entryway out onto the sidewalk where the dawn light made them more visible, the weight of the pain that rolled over Carlos threatened to crush him. It was Stephanie with Dickie.

Holding Stephanie close to his side, Dickie walked her down the block to where his classic Jaguar was parked. He wrapped both arms around her and gave her a kiss on the forehead before opening the car door.

Carlos just sat and watched them drive away, his mind blank, no thoughts, no analysis, no plans. After a very long time he managed to start his mother's car and drive back to Newark.

_TBC_


	69. Currents 6

_BIG WARNING: Major angst here. Don't say I didn't warn you! This chapter and the next two are the saddest in the story. Well, and two more after that, but a different kind of sad.  
_

**Currents 6**

_Four months later, New Year's Eve more than a year after Stephanie & Carlos broke up  
_

"Would you like to dance?"

Carlos turned at the tap on his shoulder to face the gorgeous green-eyed blonde in the lime-green dress cut low to reveal the upper curves of magnificent breasts. Her skin was smooth and tan, her heels were high, and she was sex on legs, but she reminded him way too much of Ashley, the lifeguard from Point Pleasant, and brought back the memory of her aggressive moves on him.

"No thanks." He shook his head and turned back to the bar, lifting his shot of tequila and downing it in a gulp.

"I'll dance with you, sweetheart," Lester said with a grin and held out his hand.

After pursing her lips at the back of Carlos's head, the blonde swiveled her eyes over to Lester's, which were twinkling with mischief and a little lust.

"Sure," she said putting her hand in his and allowing him to lead her away, casting one last glance over her shoulder at Carlos.

Julio returned from dancing with a pretty redhead to slip onto Lester's empty stool, focusing concerned eyes on his brother. "Don't you think you should slow down a bit, 'Los?"

"Hell, no," Carlos muttered. "You guys talked me into coming here, and I plan on getting my money's worth."

"Well, you can sweat it out on the beach tomorrow. Supposed to be hot and sunny."

Carlos waved at the bartender for another shot. In a way he was angry with himself for allowing Lester and Julio to convince him to come down to Miami for their ten-day holiday leave. But he deserved a break, he thought, after the intense mental and emotional strain of OCS. General Gordon had taken a personal interest in his progress, inviting him for drinks at the Officers' Club every Saturday evening for the past few months, engaging him in enthusiastic discussions of military history, tactics and ethics.

Driven to excel, as always, Carlos ended up first in his class, and when he returned to Fort Benning in a few days he'd take charge of a new platoon consisting of four elite squads of Rangers. He was a little nervous about his new command, but General Gordon had assured him he was more than qualified for the task and would go far, rise high.

A touch of vertigo swayed him and Carlos decided he'd better cool it with the tequila for a bit. He turned sideways to look at the crowded dance floor and his eyes were drawn to an electric blue dress, a mass of brunette curls flowing down a bare back tanned pale gold. Long, slender legs in very high silver heels seemed to go on forever, and as the woman spun laughing, his attention fixed on full red lips and gleaming white teeth.

Unable to focus on anything else, Carlos found himself standing in front of her, smiling down at clear, inviting amber eyes and a vivacious smile. It wasn't Stephanie, although with just a squint he could imagine it was. There were no goosebumps, no shiver up his spine, but he had an obvious physical reaction that he hadn't felt for any woman but Stephanie in quite some time.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked, leaning down to be heard over the music.

Her eyes widened and dilated, her lips parted as she stared at his face, and she didn't answer, just stepped into his arms, spinning across the floor with him. Maybe it was the tequila, but she felt right in his arms, the right height, the right weight, and she followed his lead with graceful perfection. Carlos tipped his head down to rest his face against the mass of curls, and the faint smell of mango dragged an inaudible groan from his chest.

As the countdown to midnight began they stopped dancing to count down with everyone else.

"I'm Carlos," he said into her ear. "What's your name?"

"Rachel."

And on the stroke of midnight his lips descended to hers.

_oOo_

"May I cut in?" Joseph Morelli had Stephanie away from her old friend Eddie Gazarra and floating across the dance floor before she had a chance to protest. She watched Eddie go back to her cousin Shirley, pregnant and big as a house, ready to pop any day. Another old married couple, she thought. It seemed like everyone in her high school class was married and half of them had kids or were expecting. Even Mary Lou was talking about maybe having a baby one of these days. And Stephanie didn't even have a prospect.

As Joe held her close and swayed to the music Stephanie pushed on his chest to get some space between her body and his lean hardness, preparing herself to shoot him down one more time. She was certain that the reason he put his smooth Italian moves on her every time he saw her was because she always rebuffed him. He was a really good-looking guy, and she'd had a crush on him throughout her childhood, right up until he announced to the whole Burg that he'd taken her virginity by writing that disgusting poem on the wall of the men's room in Mario's Sub Shop. More than five years ago, and the memory still got her back up.

"Relax, Cupcake," Joe murmured into her ear, his cheek resting on the side of her head. "It's just a dance."

"Don't call me Cupcake," Stephanie gritted out. "Why the hell do you always do that when you know I hate it?"

Joe leaned back and grinned, charming and lopsided, making him look even more handsome. "I can't help it. You're so sweet, with a soft, creamy center. Every time I see you I just want to eat you up."

"What are you doing here, anyway?" she asked, changing the subject. "Didn't you just have leave a few months ago?"

"I finished my tour and decided not to re-enlist. I'm back for good."

Oh, just great, Stephanie thought. She'd have to start avoiding Burg functions.

"So what are you doing now? Do you have a job?" she asked, just to be polite, waiting for the dance to be over so she could get away.

"I'm going to the police academy. Protect and serve. Going to be a cop right here in Trenton." He gave her a cocky smile. "So you'll be seeing a lot of me around here from now on."

As the song ended and another slow one began, Joe showed no sign of releasing her, so Stephanie pulled away.

"Where you going, C— Steph?" he asked

"Sorry, promised this dance to somebody." Stephanie rushed off the dance floor toward her family's table, thinking she'd grab her father for the dance. She smiled at the sight of her grandparents sitting close together. She was so glad Grandpa was okay, even if he had to take it very easy after the heart attack.

Before she reached her dad a tall figure in a good gray suit smiled at her from a couple tables over and she re-routed.

"Hey, Dickie, dance with me?" she asked. When his arms went around her, she relaxed, laying her head on his shoulder. With her eyes closed, the music took her back more than a year, to Point Pleasant, the end-of-summer dance with Carlos. Tall and broad-shouldered, his arms around her firm and yet so gentle, guiding her through the intricate dance steps with such ease. It just felt right.

Allowing herself to let go and remember, just for a few minutes, how perfect that summer had been, when midnight struck Stephanie turned her face up, eyes still closed, for a kiss.

_oOo_

The smoke drifted up from Rachel's full lips as she exhaled, curling around her head and obscuring the golden eyes so that for just a moment Carlos could believe that it was really Stephanie there with him. Then the smoke cleared and reality set in.

Slipping the cigarette from her fingers he took a long drag of his own, relishing the burning of the smoke in his lungs. He'd quit three years ago, but it was a habit you never really got over.

His head ached and his mind spun, calculating and assessing his options, reeling at the potential downside of tonight's weakness. His eyes had been clamped shut, his nose filled with the scent of mango, his memory drowning him in the oceans of Stephanie's azure eyes, and it had taken a moment to realize the gush of warm wetness when he came was more than just his own ejaculate. Cursing, he'd pulled out to expose the torn condom.

Cigarette finished he rose and dressed. There was a pad of paper next to the phone, and he scribbled down his full name, unit and cell phone number and handed it to Rachel.

"Here's my contact information. I'm scheduled to be out of the country for several months, but if you leave a message on my phone I'll get it as soon as I return."

Rachel avoided his eyes, staring down at the paper in her hand. "I'll let you know as soon as I know."

Carlos nodded and walked out into the warm Miami night.

_TBC_


	70. Currents 7

_WARNING: Still sad, depressing.  
_

**Currents 7**

_Seven months later, early August, two years after Carlos & Stephanie's magic summer together  
_

Carlos collapsed into bed in the three-bedroom off-base house that he shared with Julio and Lester. The two of them had managed to stay together after Ranger School, same squad, and were off on a mission so Carlos had the house to himself.

It had been long and hard, more than six months spent in South America, but his first major assignment had gone very well, his platoon having much more success than the brass expected. And the scene had been set, cover established so that as soon as he went through a few weeks of Special Forces training he and a small team would be spending much of the next couple of years down there, infiltrating and eliminating.

Debriefing over, Carlos had ten days of leave and he planned nothing more than sleeping and eating, rebuilding his strength and preparing himself for the upcoming long-term operation. Safe and snug in his own bed, Carlos slept like a dead man for ten straight hours, his body resting and beginning the regeneration process that would keep him going at peak performance.

On arising, the first thing he did was call a local restaurant and order three entrees, steak, chicken and fish, with all the fixings. He was hungry enough to eat a horse. Then he turned his attention to his cell phone, recharged and ready to go. Along with his return home had come a return of the memory that he'd kept buried during the mission. There should be a message from Miami and as he punched in his voicemail he said a little prayer.

First message, February first: "Hi, this is Rachel Diaz from Miami. Could you please call me back?" and a Miami phone number.

Second message, a month later. "Hey, Carlos, this is Rachel Diaz again. I really need to talk to you. Please call as soon as you get this message," and the same Miami phone number.

Third message, the middle of June. "Carlos, it's Rachel. This is the last time I'm going to call. I didn't want to do this on the phone, but I guess I have no choice. I'm pregnant. The baby is due on September twenty-eighth. I moved home with my parents. If you want to talk you can reach me at…" a different Miami phone number.

He checked the time. Mid-afternoon, Saturday. He dialed the number.

_oOo_

"Have you got a date for the wedding?" Mary Lou asked as she and Stephanie tried on their bridesmaid dresses for Tina's wedding, three weeks away.

"I'm not going to ask anyone," Stephanie said. "There's really nobody I want to go with."

"Well, Joe Morelli's an usher, and Tina said he's not bringing anyone. Have you run into him at all this summer? He really looks hot in his cop uniform."

Mary Lou saw the expression on Stephanie's face and hurried on. "I know you're still mad at him for writing that stuff on the men's room wall, but that's ancient history. There's nobody in the Burg that even remembers it. And Joe's been chasing after you for years, so maybe you should consider going out with him. He's so freaking good-looking, and you guys make a gorgeous couple."

Stephanie clenched her jaw. "There's no way I'd ever date that bastard. So just drop it, Lou."

But all the way home as Mary Lou drove and chattered, Stephanie's mind kept going back to Joe Morelli's smile, the way he'd danced with her on New Year's Eve. As much as she wanted to hate him, she was still attracted to him. And he'd grown up since that horrible time. It was six years ago, after all. He was twenty-four now and she was twenty-one, almost twenty-two. They'd both changed.

But he was still just too damn cocky. She wasn't going to fall into his arms. And she wasn't going to let him think she couldn't get a date by going alone to the wedding.

Her mind began to run through the possibilities. Dickie Orr was her first thought, and she wondered if he was around. He'd come up to New Brunswick to take her for coffee several times during the last school year, not really dates, just friends getting together to talk. And he was so nice, still going to his AA meetings. He had one more year of law school to go, and she was reminded again of how mature he was, with his plans for his career and the future.

Stephanie made up her mind. She'd call him tonight and see if he'd be her date for the wedding.

_oOo_

_A week later_

Carlos lay on his back on Miami Beach in the blistering August sun, the weight of regret heavy on his chest. He'd made so many grievous mistakes in his soon-to-be twenty-two years, and tomorrow he'd begin the penance for his latest.

His wedding day. A day that should be filled with joy, new beginnings, optimism for a bright future.

He thought of the Tiffany ring still buried at the bottom of his footlocker back at Fort Benning. He'd spent almost every penny he had on it, for a woman he'd never stop loving but who'd apparently forgotten about him. Yet even after that he'd kept the ring, hoping in spite of the hopelessness of it.

"Hey, 'Los." His brother's voice broke into his reverie. "We'd better get going, get showered and ready for the rehearsal. Traffic's going to be a bitch getting out of here."

Carlos rolled over and pushed up, rising to his feet with a grace seldom seen in large, muscular men. Shrugging into his long-sleeved shirt he picked up his towel, flapping it so the sand fell from it back down onto the beach.

Just a grain of sand, he thought, just a tiny sperm invisible to the naked eye, and now a child, his child, growing in Rachel's womb.

When he'd arrived in Miami, gone to Rachel's house, he'd barely recognized her. Her hair, wild curls down her back on New Year's Eve, was now straight and shoulder length. Her slimness was distorted by the soccer-ball-sized protrusion of her pregnancy. But her eyes were the same clear catlike gold-brown, her lips as full, her welcoming smile as brilliant as he remembered.

They'd sat in her parents' living room to talk, and he had to ask the question. "I don't mean to doubt you, or to imply anything, but are you absolutely sure the baby's mine?" He was still hoping to awaken from this nightmare, to find it was all a huge mistake. She hadn't been a virgin, after all. There must have been others.

But her answer dashed his slight hope. "Yes, I'm positive. I don't know what got into me that night. I never do that. There was only one other guy, ever, and that was over more than a year ago. I wasn't with anyone but you." He could read the honesty on her face and knew it was the truth.

So he'd done the honorable thing. He'd taken her hand and looked in her eyes and said, "Rachel, I'm going to take care of you and our baby. And I want everything to be right and legal between us. Will you marry me?"

From that moment on everything had been rush, rush, rush. Marriage license, meetings with the priest, phone calls and paperwork. Julio, just back from his mission, had borrowed a car and driven down to Miami with both of their dress uniforms. And a week after the South America debriefing, he was on his way to his wedding rehearsal.

Later, he drove Rachel home after treating her family and the small wedding party to dinner at a restaurant.

"Carlos?" Rachel's voice was small in the dark car, as if she didn't want to disturb him.

"Mm-hm?

"I wish you could be here when the baby comes."

He reached over and took her hand. "I do, too, but I'm going back out of the country in a few weeks and I don't know how long I'll be gone. But I promise to come straight here as soon as I'm back. We'll figure out what to do then, where we're going to live, stuff like that."

More silence, then another low, "Carlos?"

"Yeah?"

"Are there any special family names? Like if it's a boy should he be named after you?"

"No, there aren't any family names. And I don't think I want a Junior if it's a boy."

"Well, what names do you like?"

"I don't know. It doesn't matter. You pick the name."

"Is there anyone special to you, someone who's influenced your life, done something good for you?"

Carlos thought immediately about his younger brother. He'd been closer to him than anyone else in the family, and if it hadn't been for Julio trying to emulate him and getting hooked on drugs a couple years before, Carlos's whole life would be different. He'd probably be part of the DeCalva family, a career criminal by now, dealing drugs, running prostitutes, crushing kneecaps and murdering without compunction.

"Julio," he answered. "He doesn't realize it, but he saved me."

_TBC_


	71. Currents 8

_WARNING: Heartbreaking, but the end of this very angsty part.  
_

**Currents 8**

_A week later_

"Stephanie, there's someone here for you." Her mother's voice flew up the stairs like a raucous crow clamoring from the treetops, startling Stephanie out of the almost-a-nap state she reached every day after work. For the second summer in a row she was working retail at A.J. Wright, a small independent department store in Trenton. This year she had enough seniority to command the day shift, so each weekday at four she rode the bus back to the Burg and collapsed on her bed for a half hour before going downstairs to help her mom and set the table for dinner.

She hadn't gone back to work at Point Pleasant the summer after her sophomore year, even though Uncle Tommy would have welcomed her experience at Crabster's. It had taken her more than a year to get thoughts of Carlos, the longing for him that was an ever-present ache in her chest, out of her mind and heart. The memories were buried deep down in her subconscious, and if she had the occasional dream of eternal love and unending passion, well, she didn't ever remember her dreams anyway.

The only thing that brought that enchanted summer back to her mind was the rare letter from Julio, and the last time she'd heard from him was a brief note last Christmas saying he and Lester were in the same Ranger squad and Carlos was graduating from Officers' Candidate School as a second lieutenant. She hadn't written back, wanting to put all thoughts of Carlos away for good. What was the point of continuing to crave something you could never have?

She took a quick glance in the mirror as she passed and stopped to smooth the unruly curls that had escaped her ponytail.

"Stephanie!" Her mother was shouting now. She'd been a real shrew since Prince Steve took a job in California and moved Princess Valerie out of the Burg and across the country. Especially because Valerie was pregnant already. Her mom wasn't happy with the fact that her first grandchild would be born so far away.

"Coming, Mom," she answered and skipped down the stairs wondering who could be stopping in at five o'clock on a Friday. Mary Lou, maybe, with something for Tina's wedding next weekend. She couldn't imagine who else might drop by without calling first.

Her mother stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, face grim, and Stephanie looked a question at her.

"In the living room," her mother told her, adding an unnecessary reminder. "Don't forget, dinner at six."

As Stephanie walked through the archway into the living room, her breath caught in her throat and her heart heaved in her chest at the sight of the tall man in black. His shoulders were broad and as he turned away from the window to face her she took in the perfect body showcased by a clinging t-shirt that defined every rippled muscle, the mocha latte skin, the dark hair cut short in military style, the Adonis-like profile.

"Hi, Steph," he said with a two-hundred-watt smile, and Stephanie flung herself into his arms, wrapping herself around him with a choked sob.

But even as she hugged him she buried the cry of "Carlos," and when she released the hug she looked deep in his eyes and saw the truth there.

"Julio, how wonderful to see you," she said instead. "You look amazing. The army must really agree with you."

"You look exactly the same, Steph," Julio told her, sliding his hands from her shoulders down her arms and capturing both of her hands in his larger ones. "Still the prettiest girl in Jersey."

Stephanie blushed and looked down. "So what brings you back? You're not out yet, are you?"

"No, just on leave. I came up to Newark to visit my parents and I wanted to see you."

"So sit down and tell me everything," Stephanie said, dropping to the couch and pulling Julio down beside her, each turned toward the other, their four hands locked together resting on her knees. "Are you still in the same squad with Les? Is he still a smart-mouth?" She inhaled. "And how's Carlos? An officer now?"

Julio held her hands tight, knowing what a shock the news was going to be. That was why he'd come to break it to Stephanie in person. Maybe she'd gotten over Carlos, and if so he wanted to take a shot at his own chance with her. Carlos wasn't the only Manoso who'd fallen for Stephanie that summer in Point Pleasant, and Julio hadn't been able to forget the beautiful milky skin, the out-of-control curls, the friendliness and caring, the sheer goodness that radiated from her.

There was no way to prepare her, so Julio just blurted it out, all of it. "Carlos got married. He's expecting a baby next month."

Stephanie's blue eyes grew huge, her face sheet white. She sucked in a deep breath, then another, and a third, and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped over into Julio's arms.

_oOo_

_A week later_

Bridesmaid duties over, Stephanie relaxed into Dickie's arms, letting him support her, rolling her hips in time with the music. He looked so handsome in his navy suit and red tie, she thought, so professional, already like the lawyer he'd soon become, the politician he hoped to be.

"I'm so glad you could come tonight," she murmured into his ear with humid breath, and then gave his earlobe a little nip.

"Me, too," Dickie said, pulling back to look down at her, surprise and pleasure on his face as he observed her heavy eyelids, the tip of her tongue peeping out to moisten her slightly parted lips. "You're beautiful, Sugarplum."

Stephanie pressed herself up against him, rubbing her pelvis against his groin and watching his expression as his pale gray eyes turned smoky, surprise replaced by desire.

Across the room Joseph Morelli was watching her, Stephanie noted, probably just waiting for his opportunity to cut in. Well, let him watch. She buried her face in Dickie's neck, nuzzling and nibbling, gratified by the hardness that now pressed against her belly.

After she'd regained consciousness in Julio's lap last Friday, his arms holding her close, his voice saying her name, she'd crushed his hopes with just a few words. Apologizing for her dizziness, she told him she hadn't eaten all day and he'd need to excuse her so she could go grab something. She showed him to the door and thanked him for stopping by, never mentioning Carlos again. When Julio asked if she'd continue to write to him, she told him she didn't think that was a good idea, that it was time to leave the past behind.

He'd walked down the steps, crestfallen, not understanding, and Stephanie felt bad for hurting his feelings. But the fact was, she was hanging onto her composure by a fine filament, and the moment he was gone she retreated to her bed, staring at the ceiling, catatonic, remaining there all weekend. For two days Mrs. Plum kept coming in, rousing Stephanie enough to say a few words, but nothing her mother said or did could get her to move, and no food could tempt her into eating. Mrs. Plum was beside herself.

Then on Monday morning Stephanie rose as if nothing was wrong and went to work. The week progressed as usual, and she talked with Dickie on the phone a couple of times, confirming arrangements for meeting at the wedding on Saturday and spending time just chatting.

And now here she was, dancing in the arms of one of the most eligible, desirable bachelors in the Burg.

The bride and groom left in a flurry of good-byes and congratulations, and Stephanie grabbed Dickie's hand.

"Let's get out of here," she said, "but I'm not ready to go home yet." She looked up at him through her lashes. "I've never seen your apartment in Princeton. Is it nice?"

"It's great," Dickie said, the grin almost splitting his face in half. "Would you like to see it now?"

Stephanie pulled him toward the door. "Let's go."

**TBC in Part 8—Slow Decay**


	72. Slow Decay 1

_WARNING! Character death in this section. You find out who in chapter 2. But this is the last of the really bad angst. Ranger and Stephanie's paths are now converging, and by the end of this section they'll be about to meet again. So hang in there, faithful readers, and thanks so much to those of you who are sticking with me! –Dee_

**Part 8—Slow Decay**

_Your injuries aren't mortal wounds,  
The only thing that's killing you is what you saw,  
What you couldn't stop  
—Chris Carrabba_

1

_Six years later, eight years after the summer Stephanie and Carlos met in Point Pleasant, August_

"Carlos, wake up, wake up. It's over, it's all over. Wake up, Carlos, you're safe now. Come back!" Louder: "Carlos! Come back! Wake up!"

Carlos awoke, howling and drenched with sweat, straining against the canvas restraints that immobilized his arms and legs. Tank sat beside him rumbling words of comfort, his big hand on Carlos's shoulder, trying to absorb the tension, the violence, the pain.

"Okay, I'm okay." Carlos finally managed to stop thrashing and get the words out. "Bathroom."

Tank unbuckled the straps that held him and helped the injured Carlos sit up and swing his legs over the side of the hospital bed, supporting most of Carlos's weight as he staggered wobbly-kneed to the bathroom, rolling the IV stand along behind.

Unable to stand on his own even long enough to pee, Carlos sat down on the toilet and rested his head in his hands.

He saw it over and over again, a slow-motion Panavision Technicolor zoom-in close-up of the gleaming blade slicing, the pulsing spray of blood. And every flashback, every dream sent him into insanity, into a frenzied massacre, killing every small, dark enemy soldier in the torrid jungle, bullets tearing through flesh, knife ripping apart intestines, fingers gouging out eyes, hands twisting necks until they broke, boots kicking inert bodies until there was nothing left but a pile of bloody fabric holding together a mass of sinewy pulp and shattered bone.

He didn't know how much of it was memory and how much just wishful thinking.

The first night he woke up like this, overcome with half-remembered violence and furied vengeance, he'd almost killed the male medic who'd come to investigate the disturbance. It was sheer providence that the hysterical screaming of the nurse who'd heard the crashing and come running in had penetrated the blood-hazed madness just before Carlos broke the poor soldier's neck. Though severely bruised, the lucky aide had escaped without internal injuries, just a broken arm to show for the ordeal.

That's when they called his commander and brought in Tank to stay with him at night.

Carlos used the grab bars in the bathroom to help hoist himself off the toilet, flushing and opening the door. As he tried to take a step, holding the doorframe for support, his knees gave out and he would have fallen, but Tank caught him and carried him back to bed.

_oOo_

Stephanie flung open the window to the soft evening air, leaning out and breathing in the spicy odors that wafted up from the Thai restaurant next door, gazing across the street at the couples and groups dining al fresco at the sidewalk tables of Bruno's Italian restaurant. She loved Hoboken, loved the quaint little shops and restaurants, the clubs, the crowds, the party atmosphere. It was the perfect place for young singles. No matter how alone you might feel, you could never really be lonesome here.

"Here I am." Amy's voice preceded her into the apartment. "I'm jumping right into the shower and then I'll be ready to go."

"No hurry," Stephanie said, her elbows on the windowsill, watching the traffic below, smiling at the horns that blared as someone double-parked to run into the pizza parlor down the block.

After four years of uncertainty things were settled, peaceful, and she felt like her life was finally back on track. She had a good job, a great place to live, a terrific roommate, lots of friends. What more could she ask for? And if there wasn't a special guy in her life, well, considering her luck with men, that was probably best for her. She wasn't even twenty-eight yet. She still had all the time in the world to find someone.

Amy came out of the bathroom in a terrycloth robe, rubbing her thick auburn hair with a towel. "Hey, Steph, I promised Alan we'd meet him at McFadden's around midnight. Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not," Stephanie replied. "Alan's great."

"Pa-a-a-trick will be there, too-oo," Amy sang, teasing and then turning serious. "He really likes you, you know."

Stephanie squirmed. "He's a great guy."

She was relieved when Amy walked into her bedroom to finish getting ready. Patrick really was a great guy, and Amy and Alan had been pushing them together the last few weeks. But there was just no zing there, no real connection, and Stephanie didn't think she was ready for another relationship. She was having too much fun being single.

She sighed and closed the window again, making sure it was locked before going into her own room to get ready.

_oOo_

_Two weeks later_

It had taken a full month of rehab to get this far. Carlos concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, wobbling along between the parallel bars of the frame in the physical therapy office. He kept his hands poised above the bars but not touching, trying to walk the full length of the equipment without having to catch himself.

His injuries had been so extensive that nobody could understand how he'd gotten out of the jungle, not just himself, but bringing three injured team members out with him, all that remained of the force of twenty-four that began the mission.

He'd been out of his mind for weeks afterward, periods of lucidity interspersed with flashbacks to the horror of the mission, watching his men slaughtered, seeing…

His mind was still unable to process rational thoughts of what he'd seen, what preyed on him in his dreams. He'd never been one to obsess over what might have been, to wallow in defeat and depression, but he wished it had been him. He'd give anything if he'd died instead.

Forcing the thoughts out of his head, he reached the end of the bars, turned and began the arduous journey back to the other end.

"Okay, Major, that's enough for today," said the blonde, bespectacled physical therapist, placing a cool hand on his perspiration-covered arm. He'd seen her every weekday for the past month, and although she'd maintained a professional attitude, the little touches and long looks told him she might be interested in him as more than just a patient.

She handed him his cane and took hold of his left arm to escort him back to his room. Just two weeks ago he'd been coming and going in a wheelchair, so the cane was a big improvement. And he used it to steady himself as he paced his hospital room, back and forth, back and forth. He'd never been intimidated by hard work or pain, and getting his strength back after his injuries was no different that the workouts he'd been doing his entire adult life. He was going to be walking alone in a few more days, he was sure of it. And then he could get back to Benning, back to his life.

When he reached his room there was a tall, distinguished figure waiting, looking out the window.

"I'll see you tomorrow," said the physical therapist with one last pat on his arm, but he had not a single thought for her, all his attention fixed on the man at the window. He switched the cane from his right hand to his left, stood as straight as possible and snapped off a salute as General Victor Gordon turned to face him.

"At ease," the General said with a casual return salute, his cool grey eyes skimming over Carlos, assessing and evaluating. "Sit down, son." He indicated the big reclining hospital lounger in the corner by the window. Carlos would have preferred to stand, but his legs were trembling from the therapy session and he wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to stay on his feet.

After watching Carlos sit, the General sat down in the armed visitor's chair where Tank had sat every night for the first weeks, until Carlos no longer needed to be restrained at night.

"It's good to see you on your feet again," said the General.

"I'm anxious to get back to the unit, sir."

The General's face went flat. "That's why I'm here. I've talked with your doctors and with the other survivors from Colombia. You're going to be given a medical discharge."

It was a punch in the gut, a kick in the balls, and it seemed to Carlos as if all the air was suddenly sucked out of the room. It was an effort to maintain his poker face.

"Sir, I'm recovering very well. In a few weeks I'll be ready to come back, maybe not a hundred percent physically, but certainly able to work on tactics and planning until such time as I'm back to full conditioning."

The general shook his head, sorrow underlying the military blankness of his expression. "It's already done. The paperwork will be here tomorrow and you'll be discharged at the end of next week." He stood and extended his hand.

Carlos struggled to his feet, much of his weight on the cane as he shook the General's hand, remaining silent because he was so hurt and angry that he didn't trust himself to speak.

"On behalf of your country, I want to thank you for your years of service," the General said. "And on a personal note, you're one of the finest soldiers I've ever had the pleasure to command. I'm certain you'll be just as successful in civilian life as you were in the Army. Good luck, son."

After a snappy salute, the General walked out the door without looking back. Heartsick, Carlos dropped back into the recliner and closed his eyes.

_TBC_


	73. Slow Decay 2

_WARNING: Character death in this chapter. It's traumatic and devastating for Carlos, but it's part of what is going to make him become the Ranger we know. And after this chapter things begin to get better. Thanks to everyone who's been so kind and reviewed and encouraged me. _ ─_Dee_

_oOo  
_

**Slow Decay 2**

_Two weeks later, September_

"Can you make it up the stairs, hijo?" his father asked.

"Si." Carlos grabbed the polished wooden banister with one hand, fisted his cane in the other and began the arduous climb. He wanted nothing more than to fall into bed, to pass the next eight hours in unconscious escape from his life. Civilian life. A variant of hell.

But he thought of something and turned back to his parents, who were watching him from the bottom of the stairs, exhaustion showing in their posture. It had been a very long drive from Georgia back to Newark.

"Mama, Papa, I'm going to lock my door tonight. No matter what you hear, don't come in."

"But Carlos," his mother began.

Carlos interrupted. "I mean it. Don't come in." He looked down at the anxious faces and knew he had to give more of an explanation to make sure they stayed out. "I sometimes have flashbacks, nightmares. I might hurt you without knowing what I'm doing. So please promise me you'll stay out when I'm sleeping."

After satisfying himself that their reluctant nods were sincere, Carlos continued his efforts, one step at a time. The weeks of physical therapy had helped him walk on his own again, but he had just started working on stairs when he was discharged, sent home.

Walking through the front door of the home of his childhood had been bizarre, like entering an alternate universe. He hadn't been here since the leave just before OCS, seven long years before. A lifetime. The circumstances of that visit came back to him. He was going to see Stephanie, ask her to marry him.

A bitter smile twisted his lips.

After everything that happened, she married the dickhead. Of course Carlos had been married and divorced himself by that point and spending the vast majority of his time undercover in South America. The memory of Julio's joy every time he got a letter from Stephanie, then his inconsolable face when he'd read her letter about getting married, brought everything back in a tsunami of emotion that threatened to swamp Carlos in a tidal wave of regret and anguish.

Julio…

_oOo_

Bright sparkling bottles on glass shelves doubled their multi-hued luster by reflecting off the mirrored wall behind them, and the diamond-and-emerald engagement ring burned and flashed as Alan whirled Amy around the small dance space at O'Malley's Irish Pub.

They looked so happy.

"Dance?" Patrick held out his hand to Stephanie and she took it, smiling at him as he led her out onto the floor. Snub-nosed, red-haired and freckled, he looked so Irish, like he was born and raised drinking the Guinness he favored in places like this.

"Look at them," he said as they danced into the crowd surrounding the happy couple. "Kind of makes you want to get married, doesn't it?"

Stephanie shook her head, vehemence flying from every curl. "No way. Been there, done that, and it wasn't pretty."

"What was your husband like?" Patrick asked.

"Dickie was the perfect man—tall, good looking, bright, successful… an alcoholic and a cheater," Stephanie answered. "And I don't want to talk about him."

"I'm sorry," came Patrick's quick apology. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just that seeing Alan and Amy like this makes me feel like I'm missing out on something."

"Let me give you a little piece of advice," Stephanie told him. "Don't get married because it's the thing to do, because everyone's doing it, because your family wants you to, or because you feel like there's something missing in your life. Get married because you can't survive without the other person, because your life will be meaningless without them. That's the only good reason to get married."

She didn't realize her fingers left his shoulder to stroke across the heart-shaped sapphire at her throat as she added, "And if you do find someone like that, do whatever it takes to stay with them. Don't ever let them go."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience, honey."

Stephanie gave a brief nod and then turned her head, resting her cheek on his shoulder to end the conversation.

As they danced across to the opposite end of the bar, a face jumped out of the crowd at her.

Louis Morelli, that bastard, she thought. She wouldn't forgive him for the misery he'd caused Tina, leaving her alone with two toddlers and taking off with some pole dancer. When he came crawling back three months later, both Stephanie and Mary Lou had spent countless hours supporting Tina, babysitting, doing whatever they could to help her maintain her steadfast refusal to take him back. They'd been divorced almost as long as Stephanie. Tina's sister Connie, too, though she'd been lucky like Stephanie, no kids to make things even messier and uglier. Of course Queen Valerie was still living her happily ever after with King Steve and their two little princesses-in-training, and Mary Lou and Lenny had managed to make a go of it, even with an active toddler and another baby on the way, so maybe it wasn't always hopeless.

Seated with Louis on high stools at a small, high table cluttered with empty beer bottles were two other guys. Louis' brother Mooch sat in partial profile to her, guzzling beer like a true, hard-drinking Morelli. The third guy at the table had his back to the dance floor, but the dark hair curling down over his collar, the long, lean build, could only belong to one person. Their cousin. Joseph Morelli.

Even as she stared, Louis said something and Joe turned around, catching her unaware with his piercing whiskey-colored eyes. And although she looked instantly away, she felt him coming, jerked at the tap on Patrick's shoulder.

"May I cut in?"

Patrick looked a question at Stephanie and she sighed and nodded in resignation. One dance, or he'd never leave her alone.

As Joe drew her close he displayed that engaging grin that was so attractive, the one she'd fallen for at the age of six, and said, "I never expected to see you here, Cupcake. How've you been?"

"_Don't call me Cupcake."_

_oOo_

Carlos made it up the stairs, into the bathroom, into his old bedroom. Collapsing on his bed, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the empty twin bed on the opposite wall. Julio's bed.

If Carlos had been thirty seconds quicker, they might all be back at Benning, laughing together in the little house they shared with Les, just down the road from Tank.

His failure would ever haunt him, and no matter how many times Tank told him it wasn't his fault, that the intel had been wrong, that they'd been betrayed, Carlos could never forgive himself for being too late.

Coulda, shoulda, woulda.

He forced his mind away from the memories, making a deliberate effort to relax. He needed his sleep, needed to be well rested to expedite his recovery.

And in his sleep it all came back yet again.

He was back in the jungle. It was an ambush, and he fought the enemy tooth and nail, bullets burning into his flesh and the fierce shock of the knife wounds ripping through him. No matter how many times he drilled it into them, always be prepared, the rest of the squad was lulled into complacency from its success so far, and even though Carlos killed more than a dozen of the enemy he could only save himself and one other.

And then he ran, a nightmare of slow motion, bad leg dragging, trying to reach the two support squads before it was too late.

He reached the first position, the fallback, and found nothing but bodies, and it was the thirty seconds he took to make sure none of his men were still alive that cost him everything. He ran faster than he'd thought possible and reached the backup squad just as the enemy engaged. As he burst into the clearing he saw Julio, fifty yards away, fighting hand-to-hand with one enemy soldier, another pressing unseen behind him. And Carlos raced toward him, helpless to stop it as the enemy knife slashed his brother's throat.

Carlos awoke with pounding heart, adrenaline coursing through him, but his hard-gained self discipline stopped him from crying out, from leaping up, from attacking. Eight years of constant vigilance had conditioned him to go from the throes of a nightmare to wide awake and full alert without a sound, without a ghost of a movement, even without any change in his breathing. But his pulse raced, the sweat evaporated off his overheated skin, tears stained his cheeks and pain lanced his chest. He may have trained himself not to react, but the memory of Julio's death would never give him peace, waking him night after night in agonized self-reproach. Always just a few seconds too late.

He'd been in time for Les and one other, and after the bloodbath he and Lester and the other two injured somehow made it back to the extraction site in a haze of pain and madness and sorrow. He had no memory of anything after the sight of his brother's life spurting from his throat in great gushing surges. But they'd told him he turned into a killing machine, slaughtering the enemy like so many sheep, leaving not a single one living.

And now here he was, home, alive, a lifetime of penance facing him.

He hadn't been asleep very long, and he knew the rest of the night was going to be a bad one. He dug into the pocket of his pants for the prescription bottle and popped a pill.

_TBC_


	74. Slow Decay 3

_NO WARNINGS! The worst of the angst is over! Except there's a very minor character death in this chapter, but I don't think anyone's going to get all upset. Thanks to everyone who's given me so much encouragement!  
_

**Slow Decay 3**

_A month later, October_

"Go buy yourself something sexy," Grandma Mazur said as Stephanie opened the small box to reveal a gift card from Victoria's Secret. "It's been four years since your divorce. It's time to move on and try again."

"Thanks, Grandma," Stephanie replied. "This is terrific. I'm sure I'll be able to find something nice there."

Three months ago Grandpa Mazur had eaten his last cholesterol-laden breakfast of bacon and eggs and toast with real butter, erupted with a gigantic burp and gone upstairs to get dressed. A half hour later when he hadn't come back down, Grandma called to him and getting no answer, went up to see why. She found him on the bed, hands clutched over his chest, soul ascended to that super-sized meat-lovers' scrambled skillet in the sky.

It was a hard time for the whole family. Her mother, that bastion of propriety, collapsed with grief, and Stephanie had to take the maximum five days off work for bereavement leave. Val flew home from California, leaving her two young daughters in the care of Steve and the fulltime babysitter, to take charge of the Plum household in typical placid fashion, putting together without apparent effort a luncheon to end all luncheons after the funeral.

Grandma now lived alone in the house she'd shared with Grandpa for more than fifty years, but since she didn't drive she had to rely on friends and Mrs. Plum to take her shopping and for her weekly trips to Dolly's Clip and Curl. Her house was on the market, and plans were for her to move into Val's room. Probably a good idea, Stephanie thought.

Mrs. Plum pursed her lips in slight disapproval and then changed the subject. "Stephanie, will you set the table for dinner? There will be five tonight."

"Who's coming?" Stephanie asked.

"A surprise," said Grandma. "I just happened to run into an old friend of yours at Stiva's Funeral Home the other night and invited him to help us celebrate your birthday."

"Who, Grandma? Tell me so I can be prepared."

Her grandmother grinned and Stephanie winced and looked away as Grandma's top teeth dropped down onto her tongue and she sucked them back into place. "Nope. You'll just have to wait and see."

Oh, shit, thought Stephanie, wondering who it could possibly be. A guy… She'd moved to Hoboken a year and a half ago, so she didn't really know who was around Trenton anymore. She only came down when she was forced to, like this weekend so her family could celebrate her birthday. She'd really have rather stayed in Hoboken and gone out with Amy and Alan and Patrick. Though she was sure her mother would have a big Tasty Pastry cake covered with buttercream icing roses, so that alone made it worth coming. A birthday wasn't a birthday without a bakery cake.

As she was folding the cloth napkins into the fancy fleur-de-lis design her mother taught her when she could barely walk, there was a knock on the front door.

"I'll get it," Grandma said and hustled out to the front hall. Stephanie walked to the archway to see who her grandmother had invited.

_oOo_

_The next day_

At nine o'clock Monday morning Carlos sat at his mother's kitchen table, pulled out his phone and dialed the number he'd circled in yesterday's Star-Ledger want ads. He'd spent the last month hauling his ass out of the depression brought on by all that had happened, his loss, his injuries and the unexpected return to civilian life, fighting himself back to health with enormous amounts of grueling, muscle-punishing exercise. He didn't bother going to the rehab he was entitled to at the Newark VA Medical Center, thinking he'd do better on his own, and he'd flushed all the pills down the drain.

The first time he went out jogging on a warm September morning, he'd staggered back home six blocks and twenty minutes later, knees quivering, barely able to stay on his feet. A month later he was still tottering trembling back home, but now it was after a five-mile run. He could trot up the stairs to his room without even breaking a sweat.

"Bail bonds," the female voice said in a businesslike manner and Carlos looked down again at the ad.

"I'm calling about your ad in yesterday's Newark paper. Are you still looking for a bond enforcement agent?"

"Yes, we are." The masticating sound of gum chewing punctuated the woman's words. "Do you have any experience?"

"I haven't done bond enforcement, but I just finished eight years in the army and I have a wide range of skills."

"Uh-huh. Well, we need someone right away, so I guess you could come in for an interview. Can you come today, this morning?"

"Yes, I can leave now if you want. Where are you located?"

"Trenton, 1224 Hamilton Ave."

"I'm in Newark, so it'll take me at least an hour to get there. Would ten-thirty be okay?"

"Just a sec." There was a muffling sound as she put her hand over the phone. "Vinnie!" The screeching was still so loud Carlos had to pull the phone away from his ear. "Can you see a bounty hunter at ten-thirty?"

After a pause the woman came back. "Ten-thirty is good. Do you need directions?"

"No, I'll find it," Carlos answered and hung up the phone.

He walked down the front hall, careful not to look into the living room. There on the mantle were the formal Army portraits, he and Julio both looking so young and eager. He couldn't bear to look at Julio's picture draped with black satin, a triangular wood-and-glass display frame next to it holding the folded American flag that had covered the coffin. The first time he'd seen it, the morning after his parents brought him home, he'd almost collapsed with remorse. He hadn't even had the closure of being able to attend the funeral, since he was still half-crazy in the hospital.

Keeping his head turned away, he called goodbye to his mother and walked out the front door, headed for Trenton.

_oOo_

As Stephanie rode the train into Newark Monday morning, she couldn't stop thinking about Joseph Morelli. He'd been a perfect gentleman last night, complimenting her mother's pot roast, laughing at her grandmother's jokes, attempting to engage her father in conversation, though that was an undertaking beyond the capabilities of man or God. Her father didn't talk during dinner, to anyone, about anything. He just ate, head down, letting the ebb and flow of conversation pass right over his head, only the occasional snort or mutter emanating from him to verify his presence at the table.

When it came time to leave, her grandmother had suggested Joe drive Stephanie to the train station to catch her train back to Hoboken. It was impossible to refuse, so Stephanie let Joe carry her overnight bag out to his pickup truck.

When he turned right onto Hamilton Avenue she'd said, "Hey, the train station is the other way."

"You live in Hoboken, right?" Joe said. "It's not that far. I'll take you home."

"But it's over an hour, and traffic on the turnpike will probably suck. Don't you have something better to do with your evening than drive three hours?"

Joe's charming smile flickered on. "Nope."

After a few moments, the silence in the car began to feel a little oppressive so Stephanie asked, "You're a detective now?" At Joe's nod she continued, "So what do you detect?"

"I'm part of the vice unit, responsible for investigating crimes against the public." He glanced over at Stephanie. "In Trenton it's mainly gambling and prostitution. There's a separate drug unit that busts dealers and tries to prevent distribution, so we don't worry about that."

"I didn't know there was gambling and prostitution in Trenton," Stephanie said.

The grin appeared again. "You'd be surprised. I'm on a first-name basis with practically every hooker in town. I've busted them all at one time or another."

Stephanie's eyebrows were so high they were practically in her hairline. Joe changed the subject. "What about you, Cup… Steph? What do you do for E.E. Martin?"

"I'm a lingerie buyer."

Stephanie blushed at the memory of the hot, dark-eyed look Joe gave her. What is it with guys and lingerie, she wondered. Just the mention of it got them all hot and bothered.

In spite of traffic slowdowns, the hour-and-a-half ride had whizzed by as they talked. Joe lucked into a parking place on the street around the corner from her apartment and insisted on carrying her suitcase upstairs for her. So of course her Burg manners had required her to invite him in for coffee.

After another hour of conversation, Joe said, "Much as I'm enjoying this, I'd better get going. Work will come early for both of us tomorrow."

Stephanie walked him to the door. "Thanks so much for the ride home. It was really nice of you."

"Any time, Steph." His eyes grabbed hers and held them, dilating and darkening, and his voice was husky when he added, "Can I call you sometime, maybe take you out to dinner?"

Mesmerized by the look on his face, Stephanie just nodded, and when his lips came down on hers in a gentle, sultry kiss, she couldn't help but respond.

As the train careened into her stop she wondered when she'd hear from him again.

_TBC_


	75. Slow Decay 4

**Slow Decay 4**

Carlos pulled his brand new black Explorer to the curb on Hamilton Avenue and looked up at the blue and white sign over the door of 1224. In huge letters it said "Bail Bonding Company." Just above the big letters were two words printed in shorter cursive letters stretched out to the same width. "Vincent Plum."

Carlos's stomach dropped, although nobody could have guessed from looking at him. Just driving into Trenton had brought back eight-year-old memories he'd thought were long repressed, memories of wild brown curls and translucent skin. Lapis lazuli eyes that gave you a glimpse of eternity and legs that went on forever. Stephanie Plum.

And now Vincent Plum.

Carlos sat in his car for a moment, uncertain if he should go in or just drive away. But he needed a start somewhere, and his research told him that there was a lot of money in bond enforcement and fugitive apprehension. He'd been thrifty and had a significant nest egg saved from his military career, but the new SUV had taken a chunk out of it. There wasn't enough to start a business, and his month of thinking and planning while he was rehabbing had convinced him that's what he should do. He squared his shoulders and marched military style to the door.

The outer office was small and dingy, with cheap paneling and a ratty brown faux leather couch. Seated at a battered green metal desk in front of the door that presumably led to Vincent Plum's office was a thirty-ish woman with a mass of teased dark hair, chocolate brown eyes and a dark shadow of fuzz on her upper lip.

When Carlos walked into the office her mouth dropped open and a wad of chewing gum fell out onto her lap. A flush crawled up over her olive skin as she plucked it up and dropped it in her trash can and then picked up a file folder and began fanning herself, even though the temperature outside was a comfortable sixty degrees.

Carlos studied her. She looked very familiar, and he was almost certain he'd met her sometime in some long-buried part of his past. He hoped she hadn't been one of his profusion of one-night stands during high school and his first couple years of college.

"I'm here about the bond enforcement job," he said. "I called earlier."

"Oh, yes," the woman replied, her eyes locked on him, her hand patting around on her desk until she realized the folder she was looking for was the one she was fanning herself with. Blushing again, she removed a single sheet from it and stuck it on a brown masonite clipboard that had seen better days. "Just fill out this job application form first, and then Vinnie will see you."

Carlos sat down on the couch and stopped at the first question. Name. Nobody except his family ever called him Carlos anymore. For the past three years it had been "major" and before that "captain." When they were on a mission his men called him "boss" so that his rank wouldn't be revealed in the case of enemy surveillance.

The form had a spot for first name, middle initial, last name, so he filled them in. Ricardo C. Manoso. Then he went on to the rest of the form, detailing his military training and promotions in the section marked Job Experience.

He handed the clipboard to the woman at the desk and she took the form off, glancing down at it. "Okay, uh, Ricardo, I'll tell Vinnie you're here."

She went into the inner office and returned without the application. "It'll just be a few minutes."

Before Carlos had a chance to sit back down again, the woman pulled another file folder out of her desk drawer and said, "Ricardo, why don't you fill this out while you're waiting. It's the application for the license you need to be a bond enforcement agent in New Jersey. Approval is a given unless you've been convicted of a felony." She looked up at him, her brown eyes wide. "You haven't been convicted of a felony, have you?"

Carlos allowed a smile to curve up the corners of his mouth as he took the form and picked up the clipboard again. "No." After sitting back down on the couch, he looked up. She was fanning herself again. "What's your name?"

She gulped. "Connie. Connie Rosolli."

The eight-year-old memory came back to Carlos in a rush, the smell of the ocean, the heat of the sun, the humid sea breeze on his face, the three waitresses laughing on the boardwalk. Connie. Tina's sister that looked just like her. Thank God she didn't seem to remember him. His hair was still short, just beginning to grow out of the military cut, and he knew his face was leaner, sharper than it had been eight years before. And they'd only met once, for a few minutes.

He focused in on her, watching for any hint of recognition. "Have you worked here long?"

Connie relaxed a little bit. "Forever, it seems like. Even since Vinnie opened up the office, almost eight years ago." A wry smile crossed her face. "The job has lasted a lot longer than my marriage did."

Satisfied that she had no clue she'd met him before, Carlos finished filling out the multi-duplicate form and handed it back to Connie. "It needs to be notarized."

She took it and said, "I can do that. Just sign it." He scribbled his signature and Connie stamped each copy, signed it and tore off the blue back copy. "This is your temporary license until the official one comes in the mail. Now you can tell Vinnie your bond enforcement certification is current."

As he folded the sheet into a neat rectangle and slid it into his wallet the intercom buzzed. Connie picked up the phone and listened. "Okay, you can go in now." She stood and opened the door for him.

Carlos walked through into the office of Vincent Plum. It was a hair up in quality from the outer office, with a battered desk of wood instead of metal, and a matching wooden file cabinet and bookcase on the opposite side of the room. A metal-framed upholstered chair with plastic armrests sat facing the desk.

"I'm Vincent Plum." Vinnie's voice was as oily as his looks, and before he slammed down the screen of his laptop Carlos caught a glimpse of a naked woman on her hands and knees being mounted by some sort of animal, a donkey, maybe, or a really large dog.

Carlos suppressed a shudder, letting none of his disgust show on his face. "Ricardo Manoso," he said, keeping his hands at his sides, not offering to shake.

Vinnie looked Carlos up and down, pausing for what seemed like an inordinate amount of time at his groin area. "Have a seat." His smile was sleazy and his left hand dropped behind the desk into his lap.

Carlos looked at the visitor chair, mauve fabric marred by several blotchy brown stains, and said, "I'll stand."

"Suit yourself." Vinnie's hand was moving in his lap as he looked down at the paper on his desk. "I see you've been an army ranger for a long time. So tell me, Ranger, what makes you think you have what it takes to be a bond enforcement agent?"

Carlos just stared at him with cold, dead eyes. This guy was a real lowlife, and he didn't think he wanted to work for him.

Vinnie squirmed. "Okay, fine. Do you have a current bond enforcement certification?"

"Yes."

"Okay, here's the file." Vinnie thrust a manila folder into Carlos's hands. "Get Connie to run him through the search programs. Find the man, bring him in, collect your ten percent."

Carlos took the file and reached for the door handle, but then stopped and turned back. "Eight or nine years ago there was a Stephanie Plum at Rutgers. She still around here?"

Vinnie rolled his eyes. "My crazy cousin. No, she moved away."

Carlos nodded and walked out.

"Connie," yelled Vinnie before the door closed. "Help Ranger find Stephen Shirley."

Connie stared at Carlos. "Wow, that didn't take long. And he gave you the big one." She held out her hand for the file, taking out a contract, printing his name in with a pen and giving it to him to sign.

"He said you'd show me the search programs," Carlos said.

"Come around here." Connie got up and pulled the chair that was in front of her desk around so Carlos could sit beside her, then turned the monitor toward him and rolled the cursor across three icons on the screen. "These are the three programs we use for background searches."

She glanced over at Carlos. "Did Vinnie call you Ranger?"

Carlos nodded. "I was an army ranger for eight years."

"Good street name," Connie said. "Okay, Ranger, let me show you how these work and the kinds of information you can get from them."

_TBC_


	76. Slow Decay 5

**Slow Decay 5**

_Two months later, a few days before Christmas_

More than two months went by and Joseph Morelli hadn't called Stephanie. She sighed as she dragged her rolling suitcase onto the train, heading south to Trenton for Christmas. She had a week of vacation, but she didn't want to get stuck spending the whole week from Christmas to New Year down there, ferrying her grandmother around and listening to her mother's criticism and advice on how to bag a husband.

At Thanksgiving her mother had two different single guys over for dinner when she was home, both guys Stephanie wouldn't date for a million bucks. She was afraid the same thing was going to happen at Christmas, and she just couldn't face it. She wasn't looking for a husband. She'd had one and it hadn't taken.

She tried to put marriage out of her mind. After she'd caught Dickie in flagrante delicto with that bitch Joyce Barnhardt, she'd been first hysterical, then enraged. Her divorce was still the standard in the Burg for bitter acrimony, that pinnacle to which all other wronged wives aspired. When she was through, Dickie's political aspirations were in tatters. She'd buried the memories deep and never thought about it anymore, except when it was forced on her.

Stephanie arrived home just in time to set the table and sit down to dinner, eating as much as she could manage with the sick stomach generated by her mother's interrogation. They'd all finished dinner except her father, who was still shoveling in a second helping of chicken and dumplings and roasted potatoes, when there was a knock on the front door.

"I'll get it," Grandma Marzur said, hopping up with unexpected spryness for a woman in her seventies. "I wonder who that could be."

Her house sold, Grandma had moved in, full of spit and vinegar and inappropriate comments. Grandpa's death seemed to have freed her from some kind of oppression, and she was just bursting with energy.

Grandma returned from the front door, chattering all the way. "She's here but she's already eaten. Come sit and we'll set you a place. You look like you can use a good meal."

All eyes were on the archway as Grandma ushered in none other than Joseph Morelli.

Stephanie's mother was on her feet, pulling an extra chair from the corner to the table. "Slide over a little, Stephanie. Make room for Joseph. I'll get another plate."

Joe sat down with his irresistible grin. "Hey, Cup— Steph. I just got back into town and was hoping you'd be here." He paused as Mrs. Plum laid a plate and silverware in front of him.

"Just let me bring out some warmer chicken and biscuits," Mrs. Plum said and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Joe continued as Mrs. Plum returned and began spooning food onto his plate, "I was hoping you'd go out to dinner with me, but this is even better." The charming smile had Mrs. Plum blushing and stammering.

"Did you say you just got back?" Grandma asked, bright terrier eyes inquisitive. "Where have you been?"

"Out of town, undercover," Joe answered, swiveling his eyes to Stephanie. "That's why I haven't called. I've been gone since a few days after the last time I saw you."

Stephanie sighed at the rabid interest on her mother's and grandmother's faces. She could almost read the wedding invitations being written in their brains, see herself in a big, puffy white dress walking down the aisle in their eyes.

By the time they all finished eating Stephanie's favorite dessert of pineapple upside down cake with extra whipped cream, it was settled. She was going out to dinner with Joe the next night.

She walked Joe to the front door and stepped out onto the porch to escape her grandmother, lurking just around the corner in the dining room, eavesdropping. It was bad enough that the whole Burg would know by bedtime that she was going out to dinner with Joseph Morelli, but she didn't want a play-by-play of their goodnight words, the goodnight kiss she was anticipating.

When he pulled her tight against his tall, lean hardness and she parted her lips for his probing tongue, she felt a dagger of desire that hadn't touched her in years, not since… No, she wouldn't think about the one man who could make her crazy with passion, whose mouth and hands had explored every inch of her body, even the parts she thought were off limits, whose touch gave her orgasms the likes of which she'd never experienced before and never expected to experience again.

But the forbidden memories sent a shiver through her and caused her to respond to Joe's kiss with unintended eagerness. His eyes were inky pools in the glow of the porch light, promising more to come.

Gruff-voiced he said, "I'll pick you up at six tomorrow, Cupcake," and Stephanie was so shaken that he was in his car and driving away before she found her voice.

"Don't call me Cupcake," she murmured to the red glow of his taillights.

_oOo_

"Hi, Rachel. It's Carlos," Ranger said into his phone.

"Carlos?!" Rachel exclaimed, her surprise obvious. "How have you been?"

"I'm fine." Ranger hated the small talk, but if he was going to get what he wanted he knew he had to play the game. "How are Ron and the kids?" He took a breath and asked the real question that was on his mind. "How's Julie?"

Julie had turned six in September, and as usual Ranger sent a card signed "Carlos" and a check. He'd never had time to shop before this year, but even with the time to buy something, he had no idea what to get, so he stuck with the usual.

"Julie's doing great." Rachel's voice was warm with affection. "She's in first grade and really loves it."

"That's wonderful." Ranger tried to make his own enthusiasm match Rachel's. "The reason I'm calling is that I'm going to be down in Miami next week and I'd like to stop by." He took a breath, knowing that Rachel was going to be surprised, perhaps shocked. "I'd like to see Julie."

He hadn't seen Julie in over five years. The memory of his first sight of her would stay with him always. It was the spring after she was born. He'd been in South America since right after he and Rachel got married and he went straight to Miami so see them when he got back stateside.

He'd held Julie in his arms and looked down at her and seen his brother's face, his own face. Even at six months she was clearly a Manoso, with intelligent brown eyes and a short cap of straight dark hair. At that moment he'd thought being her father was the most important thing in the world.

The second time he saw Julie, seven months after that, she was just over a year old and hiding behind Rachel's legs, afraid of the tall, dark stranger she couldn't remember. He'd signed the divorce papers without a moment's hesitation. When he went down once more a year later to turn custody over to Rachel's new husband, Ron Martine, he hadn't seen Julie at all, and hadn't wanted to. It hurt too much. He didn't want to give up his parental rights, but he was no kind of father to Julie, and Rachel had convinced him to think of what was best for her. So he'd signed.

Rachel's quick response to his request to see Julie surprised him. "Of course. I think it would be good for her to get to know you. She always asks about you when she gets your birthday and Christmas cards, so I've told her a little bit about you. But meeting you in person would be even better."

A weight lifted off Ranger's shoulders. "That's great. I'll be down there from Tuesday through Friday, so you can pick whatever day is best for you. Do you want me to call you when I get there?"

"That would be great. I'm not sure exactly what we're going to be doing every day next week, but by Tuesday I'll know."

"Okay. And Rachel? I'd like to bring her a Christmas gift, if that's okay with you, but I don't have any idea what to get her. Can you give me any ideas?"

"If you can find a Madrigal Rose doll, that would be perfect. They're the hottest new thing for girls, completely sold out here. I tried bidding on eBay, but they're going for three or four hundred dollars, and that's just too much for us to spend."

"I'll find one. See you next week."

_TBC_


	77. Slow Decay 6

**Slow Decay 6**

_A week later, the week after Christmas_

"Where's your cape?" Julie asked Ranger the minute they were alone together.

"Cape?" Ranger raised an eyebrow at her. She'd gotten up from her seat on the couch next to him and was standing between his knees, reaching out a small brown finger to poke at his abs. Her skin was just a shade lighter than his own, and she still looked so much like Julio that a pang of grief slashed through his heart.

"Your _cape,_" Julie insisted. "If you're a superhero, you have to have a cape. Like Superman."

"Superhero?" Ranger asked, feeling like he'd somehow been whirled up in a twister and landed in Oz or some other strange land.

"Mom told me you're a superhero and that's why you can never come to see me." Julie spoke with confidence, certain of her facts.

Rachel was pregnant and looking much like she had at their wedding, her hair straight and shoulder length. When he arrived at the small, neat ranch house in the suburbs, she'd given Ranger her brilliant smile and a kiss on the cheek before introducing Julie to him. "Julie, this is Carlos, your biological father. He's the one that always sends you money for your birthday and Christmas."

"Pleased to meet you," Julie had said, holding out her hand for a solemn handshake.

Once he was seated on the floral couch in the small, neat living room Rachel had asked, "Can I get you something to drink, Carlos? Coffee or iced tea?"

"Coffee would be good," he'd answered. It would give him something to do with his hands, which felt large and awkward in his lap, and he could take a sip to give himself time to think of things to say to Julie.

Rachel walked back into the room with his coffee just in time to hear Julie's last sentence. "Not a superhero, sweetie," she corrected, smiling. "I told you he was a hero. He's a soldier and helps keep our country safe."

"Actually," Ranger said to Rachel, "I mustered out. I started a security business in New Jersey and I'm looking into opening an office down here."

Julie pushed closer between Ranger's legs, both her hands on his abs now, feeling the solid muscle ridges there. "So you're not Superman anymore?"

Ranger smiled. "No, but I still try to keep the world safe. Sometimes I catch bad guys and put them in jail."

Julie studied his face. "If you're not Superman, what do I call you?"

"People up in New Jersey call me Ranger." He glanced at Rachel. "Is it okay if she calls me Ranger?"

Rachel nodded, looking relieved. "Yeah, that's perfect."

There was a thump followed by the pitter-patter of little footsteps and a small, dark-haired girl with pale gold skin appeared in the doorway rubbing her eyes. Rachel took her hand. "This is Sarah, Julie's little sister. Sarah, this is Ranger. Let's go get you changed." She led Sarah out the door, saying, "We'll be right back."

Julie was still in front of Ranger staring at him, her hands working their way up over his chest and shoulders, down his arms to feel his biceps. "You've got muscles like Superman," she said.

Ranger didn't know what to say, so he grabbed the big shopping bag he'd brought with him. "Here, Julie, I brought you a Christmas present."

Julie's excited squealing when she opened the package brought Rachel running back in, but she stopped with a smile when she saw what was causing the ruckus. "You found one," she said.

Julie was having trouble getting the doll out of its box and she brought it to the couch. "Rangerman," she asked, "can you get her out?"

Ranger nodded, using his pocket knife to cut the plastic tabs that held the doll on its cardboard backing.

It turned out it wasn't hard at all to talk to Julie, Ranger discovered. All he had to do was ask her about school and she launched into a long discourse about her friends, her teacher, what she was learning, and her plans to be a teacher someday, just like Ms. Dobbs. It was clear she loved school.

Before he left he carried his cup out to the kitchen and told Rachel about Julio. Tears filled her eyes and she reached out a hand and laid it on his arm as she said, "Oh, no. I'm so sorry, Carlos."

"Tell Julie her Uncle Julio was the real hero," he said. He took a check out of his pocket and handed it to Rachel. "This is for you to use for Julie however you think is best."

"Oh no," she said, trying to hand the check back. "You don't owe us anything. We can't take your money."

Ranger put his hands behind him, refusing to take it. "I insist. If you don't need it, start a college fund for her or something."

"But…" she began.

He interrupted and gave her his commanding officer face, the one that had caused his seasoned men to straighten their shoulders and snap to attention and the new ones to almost pee their pants. "I insist."

Rachel stared at him for a long moment and then sighed. "Thank you," she said. "I'll put it in her college fund."

When Ranger said goodbye to Julie she held her arms up for a hug and he lifted her to his chest, marveling at the easy affection she showed him, his heart aching that he hadn't been a father to her.

"Bye Julie," he said. "I'll come to see you again next time I'm in Miami."

She pressed her soft cheek against his angular one. "Bye, Rangerman."

_oOo_

_The next night, New Year's Eve_

Stephanie relaxed into Joe's arms as they swayed to the music. She'd seen him every single night for over a week, even Christmas Eve when he'd come over and joined her family for dinner. She hadn't planned on spending the whole week in Trenton, but Joe kept asking her out, night after night, so she'd stayed.

It was the first time she'd been to the New Year's Eve Gala at the Elks Club in ages, since the year she was engaged to Dickie Orr, but the faces were all familiar. Everyone from the Burg was there. Eddie Gazarra and Carl Costanza, both cops now. Connie Rosolli. Not Tina, though. She'd remarried and moved away.

Mary Lou was dancing with Lenny on the other side of the room, and Stephanie gave her a finger wave. Mary Lou's mother-in-law was watching their two boys and Mary Lou was thrilled to be out. She was also thrilled that Stephanie was seeing so much of Joseph Morelli, though Stephanie was grateful that Mary Lou had managed to avoid saying "I told you so" all week.

Stephanie's parents danced past in a stiff one-two-three-four rhythm. Stephanie was almost positive she could see her father's lips moving, counting to himself and watching his feet as he danced. This once-a-year event was his only concession to her mother's desire to go out and socialize unless family obligations required him to go to a wedding. The rest of the year he sat feet up in his Lazy-Boy recliner every evening, reading his newspaper and watching an endless series of CSIs and detective shows.

She was certain her mother must have had several drinks. She was loose and laughing, trying to get her father to look up. Stephanie had been surprised to catch her mother gulping down a small rocks glass of bourbon in the kitchen earlier in the day.

"Just a little taste to help me relax," her mother had told her, as if it were no big deal.

Stephanie's grandmother looked like something out of the Roaring Twenties in a flapper-style dress of shining silver sequins. She was dripping with pearls, a long string of them hanging down over her low-slung breasts and a collar of them hiding the sagging skin of her chicken neck. It had been six months since Grandpa's death, and she was through mourning.

"Hi, Stephanie, Joe," she called as she danced past with her date, a small, skinny man with his pants pulled up practically to his armpits to cover a protruding belly. Both of his wrinkled, veiny hands were planted on Grandma's ass. "Are you having a good time?"

"We sure are," Stephanie called back, giving Joe a slap on the shoulder and saying, "Stop that," as he grinned and cupped her ass in both hands.

He looked at her with heat and held her tight against his lower body. She could feel his length pressing into her belly and it made her aware of how long it had been since she'd had a man. Joe's breath was hot in her ear as he whispered, "How about we blow this popstand and go over to my place?"

"We can't leave before midnight," Stephanie whispered back, her cheek pressed against his. "Everyone would know."

One of Joe's hands skimmed up her spine and twisted into her hair, pulling her head back until his lips could capture hers. Stephanie floated on a cloud of passion, feeling nothing but his mouth, his tongue, not realizing the music had stopped until she felt the reverberation of the slap on the side of his head and heard Mrs. Morelli's grating voice. "You stop that right now, Joseph. You're a sex fiend, just like your father, God rest his soul."

Joe jerked out of the kiss so fast it left Stephanie with her mouth wide open. "Sorry, Ma," he said.

Joe's Grandma Bella, standing beside Mrs. Morelli, pressed her palms to each side of her forehead and closed her eyes. "I'm getting a vision," she said. "I see babies, little boys with curly hair and brown eyes. Three of them." She swayed toward them and before Stephanie could move Joe jumped away from her to steady his grandmother.

"Come on, Grandma, let me help you to the car," Joe said, leading her and his mother away. "Be back after I take them home," he tossed over his shoulder and walked out the door, leaving Stephanie standing alone on the dance floor.

Shit, thought Stephanie. Fucking Burg.

_TBC_


	78. Slow Decay 7

**Slow Decay 7**

_Seven months later, August_

"There's no way I'm moving back to the Burg." Stephanie's hands were on her hips and her eyes were shooting sparks. "This place almost destroyed me, and I'm not letting it take over my life again."

"Then why are you considering Trenton?" Mary Lou asked, her brow wrinkled. "Why don't you just stay in Hoboken?"

"Because I can't afford my own place in Hoboken, and I can't find a decent roommate." Stephanie tunneled her fingers through her hair, her curls springing into disarray. "I've been looking all summer, and there's nobody I could stand to live with. Amy's been such a great roommate. Her wedding is less than a month away and I have to find someplace. What am I going to do, Lou?"

"Have you looked in the other towns around Hoboken?"

"I've looked everywhere. The places I can afford that are close enough to the train to walk are slums."

Mary Lou poured more iced tea. They were sitting in her kitchen on a Saturday morning, the window air conditioner cranking full out to try to overcome the August heat and humidity. The nights were starting to cool off a little, but the daytime atmosphere was thick enough to grab and wring out through your fingers. Lenny and the two boys were out back throwing a Nerf football through the soupy air before the worst heat of the day.

"Oh, I know." Mary Lou bounced in her seat. "There are a bunch of new apartments in Hamilton Township. You wouldn't be in the Burg, but you'd be close enough to see your friends here." A scheming look lit her eyes, immediately replaced with a look of angelic innocence. "You'd be just a few minutes away from Joe's apartment."

"I've barely seen Joe since New Year's Eve," Stephanie said. "He works all the time and goes on those undercover assignments. Besides, his mother is freaking scary, and he seems to be really under her thumb."

"Well, if you were closer it would be easier to see him and you could find out if he's right for you. Of course you'd have to get a car if you lived here," Mary Lou continued, always practical, "so you'd have to add those payments into your budget, but around here rent is so much cheaper that it'll probably work out."

"Can you drive me out there to look at apartments today?" Stephanie asked. "Will Lenny watch the boys?"

Mary Lou jumped up and shoved the iced tea pitcher into the refrigerator. "Let's go."

_oOo_

The vibration of his phone on the table next to the couch awoke Ranger and he glanced at his wrist. Nine o'clock. He'd been sleeping almost five hours, more than enough. His Special Forces lifestyle had conditioned him to operate at peak efficiency for long periods of time on little sleep, and it had come in handy as he built up his business. Eighteen hour work days seven days a week had been the norm for him the past ten months. And he already had more money than he'd imagined he could make on his own.

He sat up, stretching as he reached for the phone. He was still sleeping in the office he'd rented the day he brought in Stephen Shirley and collected twenty-five thousand dollars from Vinnie Plum. Thanks to Connie and her search programs he'd found Shirley and captured him the day after he got the file. Since then Connie had given him immeasurable help with searches and her knowledge of Trenton, and he'd told her if he could ever do anything for her, just ask.

His original office, on the second floor of the brick building on Cameron Street, had a desk with computer, a gun safe, a closet and a tiny shower in the bathroom, and he'd installed a couch and stayed there ever since he rented it. He was now in the process of purchasing the four-story building and had set up a formal office on the third floor, getting his mail and running his legitimate businesses up there. Anything pertaining to the seamier side of his life stayed down here, along with a closet full of black cargoes, rapper pants and baggy gang clothes. He kept his two street bum outfits sealed in a plastic box in the back of the closet to keep the odor ripe but separate from his other things.

"Georgia," read the display on his phone, with an exchange Ranger didn't recognize.

"Yo," he answered, his usual greeting when he didn't know who was calling. Julie's dubbing of him as "Rangerman" had set him thinking, and after consulting with an attorney he'd incorporated as "RangeMan," a contraction of his name, Ranger Manoso. But he never answered his cell phone with the corporate name. The answering machine on the third floor took care of that.

"Who's this?" The voice was familiar, wrenching Ranger's mind back to the last time he'd heard it telling him the Army didn't want him anymore.

"Who's _this?_" he responded, knowing how the game was played.

"This is Victor Gordon, trying to reach Ricardo Carlos Manoso." Victor Gordon, not _General_ Gordon. Ranger wondered what he wanted.

"This is Ranger Manoso. What can I do for you, sir?" The General hadn't used his rank, so Ranger didn't either.

"Ranger, huh?" Ranger could hear the smile in the General's voice.

"Street name. It seems to work around here. So what can I do for you?" he repeated.

"I need an independent contractor for a particular situation in South America. Are you available?"

"Possibly. I'd need the particulars before I could make a decision."

"It will take approximately a week out of country plus briefing and debrief time, and we're prepared to pay a major's scale plus expenses plus a bonus."

"No thanks," Ranger said. "Nice talking to you, sir."

"Wait, son." The General sucked in an audible breath. "It's a matter of national security. You'd be doing your country a service. You served for a long time. Why not a couple weeks more?"

"Because I don't want to, and it will cost me substantially more than a major's pay plus bonus to leave my business for a couple of weeks."

"We trained you, took care of you for eight years. Don't you think you owe it to your country?"

"If you're going to turn me into a mercenary, you're damn well going to pay me what I'm worth," Ranger growled. "I gave eight years to my country and you shoved me aside at the first sign that I might no longer be useful. I don't owe you anything."

"Just a minute, son. Let me look at some figures." Ranger heard papers rustling and knew the General was just bullshitting him. He would have known before calling precisely how much he could finesse from various budget items to make a payment for something like this. Ranger didn't blame the General for trying to lowball him. He'd have done the same himself. Why pay more than you had to? But Ranger had a pretty good idea what this kind of job was worth, and he was going to squeeze out every possible penny before going back to work for the man who'd cut him loose with nothing more than a "Good luck."

The General came back on the line. "I've done some shuffling, and it appears we can manage the amount we budgeted for Project Hombre last year. Do you recall?"

Ranger recalled very well. Half a million. That would do, he thought. "That's acceptable as long as I'm away from here no more than two weeks."

Ranger could feel the General's tension ease, even over the phone. "How soon can you get down here?"

"I have to make some arrangements first, and the drive will take a full day. How about Monday night?"

"Come to my house, not the base." Again Ranger felt the General's relief. "If you need to reach me, you can leave a message at this number. See you Tuesday, son."

Ranger disconnected and dialed a familiar number.

"Yeah?" Lester sounded alert, but Ranger knew Les's voice almost as well as his own, and knew he'd awakened the man at the other end of the line. Saturday morning, and Les had probably spent most of Friday night banging some woman or two or three.

Lester had left the Army just a few weeks after Ranger, an honorable discharge after eight years served. He'd come home to Newark and straight to Ranger, hurting almost as much as Ranger from Julio's death and his own wounds and wanting to work together. But Ranger wasn't ready yet, still rehabbing from his injuries, and had told Lester to take the job his uncle had offered in the security division of a big Newark manufacturing firm.

"Learn all you can," Ranger had told him, "and as soon as I get my business off the ground you can come and run the electronic security end of it."

That was almost a year ago. Now Ranger said to Lester, "I need you in Trenton. Can you take two weeks off at short notice, starting Monday?"

The grin, the excitement, the pleasure were evident in Lester's voice. "You bet your ass I can. I've been waiting for this. Do you want me to give notice?"

"Take your vacation first, then give notice. How soon can you get down here?"

"Be there in an hour, boss."

_TBC_


	79. Slow Decay 8

_Warning: Teeny tiny bit of smut. Wrong guy, though..._

**Slow Decay 8**

_Seven months later, March_

"I'm not getting any younger," Tank said, looking at Ranger across the restaurant table with its white tablecloth and crystal goblets, "and I guess I've got a decision to make. Funny, this is the first time I've even considered not re-upping. I thought sure I'd serve my twenty, maybe even longer. But four more years, well," he shook his head, "I don't know if I have the heart for it anymore."

Ranger had just finished his fourth contract mission in the past six months, and as he did each time he was down at Benning he met Tank for dinner. Tank was back in the instructor corps again. When Ranger took over the special platoon, he'd had a lot of input into who was assigned to work with him, and Tank had been the first master sergeant he'd chosen.

They'd served side-by-side for seven years until Ranger was discharged. Then Tank had gone back to instructing. He said he didn't want to continue active missions after the massacre in Colombia. It was just the luck of the draw that he and his squad were assigned as the extraction team that day and weren't in the jungle for the attack. Tank and his men had gone back in for the recovery effort, a gruesome and gut-ripping assignment bringing out the twenty bodies.

Ranger made an instant decision. "I've been working twenty-hour days, doing almost everything myself, selling, hiring, scheduling, bookkeeping, as well as working the various jobs that come in. I really need a tough, reliable second-in-command. Les is doing an outstanding job in the security system end. He took advantage of the year he worked at Biddle to learn everything he could about systems, monitoring, all the technical aspects of corporate and industrial security, and he's been invaluable in getting that side of the business going."

Ranger paused for a bite of steak, a sip of wine, and studied Tank. "But Les doesn't have the background or enough experience yet to handle operations and personnel. You do. So if you're interested, I can offer you a substantial salary, plus a pension, a 401K and profit sharing."

Tank stared at Ranger.

"Don't answer me right away," Ranger hastened to add. "Spend a few days, a few weeks if you want. Consider it, weigh your options."

Tank's mouth spread, his teeth gleaming white in his dark face. "Don't have to think about it, boss. When do I start?"

Ranger grinned back at him and held out his hand across the table. "Welcome to RangeMan."

_oOo_

Stephanie lay in Joseph Morelli's bed, eyes clamped tight, legs bent at the knees and spread wide, white-knuckled fists clutching the sheets on each side of her naked body. Joe's face was buried between her legs, tongue busy, and she cried out as the orgasm clawed through her, the heat percolating outward until she was flushed pink all over.

Before the heat receded, Joe was on top of her, inside her, pounding and pumping until she came again, dragging him along.

He lay spent for a moment and then rolled off and over, reaching down to float the sheet up to cover them both. In a few minutes he was snoring.

Six months ago Stephanie had moved into a one-bedroom apartment in an old brick building just outside the Trenton city line. Her fellow tenants were mostly seniors taking advantage of the economical rent and not minding the thirty-year-old appliances and the bathrooms that were a throwback to the fifties. Hell, probably some of those seniors had lived there since the fifties.

When she'd taken the apartment, Stephanie had figured she wouldn't be spending much time there, and the low rent made the payments on her brand new Mazda Miata convertible manageable.

Once she was settled in the apartment Joseph Morelli had started dropping in on the occasional evening bearing Pino's pizza, ready to watch the New York Rangers. In a few months he was in Stephanie's bed.

She deserved it, she decided. Maybe Joe wasn't a forever kind of guy, but he was about as attractive as a man could be with his rangy fitness, appealing smile and strong libido. And he really knew how to please a woman. He could bring her to orgasm with just a flick of his tongue. And if she was fantasizing about warm brown skin and a beautiful face from a long, long ago memory, well Joe didn't have to know that.

For several months Stephanie's life seemed settled. She got used to the longer commute to Newark and the semi-regular sex, and all was well.

Then in January she was laid off.

It was a huge shock, one she'd never expected. E.E. Martin was a pillar of Newark business for almost a hundred years. It was all over the news when the CEO got indicted, and it was only a few weeks before the company was sold and most of the salaried staff let go. Including her.

Stephanie had polished up her resume and sent it out to every department store in New Jersey and New York. While she knew discount lingerie buyers weren't much in demand and the retail business was in a bit of a downturn, she was sure someone would see the value of her five years of buying experience, two with A.J. Wright in Trenton and then three more at Martin.

She hadn't told anyone in Trenton yet, not even Joe, and she continued to take the train north several days a week, using Amy and Alan's apartment as a base and pounding the pavements looking for another job. Money was getting tight, though, and this past week she'd registered with a couple of temp agencies, figuring some clerical jobs would keep her going until something in her field turned up. It was a good thing she was motivated, a self-starter. Otherwise she'd be spending her days in bed listening to the pipes in the old radiators expanding and contracting and watching old movies.

Stephanie slipped out of Joe's bed without disturbing him, picked up her clothes from where they'd landed on the floor and walked out into the living room to get dressed. She didn't like sleeping over with him, or having him stay over with her. His snoring disturbed her sleep, and it was awkward having to get up and see his self-satisfied face in the morning. Better to sleep alone.

Letting herself out and locking the door with the key Joe had given her, she trudged out to her Miata and rolled for home.

_oOo_

_A few weeks later_

Ranger and Tank got into the elevator of the empty office building with the real estate agent. They'd walked through most of the building, all except the top floor.

"You can't go wrong with this building." The agent was pushing his sales pitch, starting to repeat himself. "It's got plenty of room for your business and you could gain some additional revenue by renting out some of the space."

Ranger nodded, even though he had no intention of renting out anything. If he bought this building it would be all RangeMan, protected by the most high-tech security on the market.

"And this downtown location is ideal," the agent continued. "It's a quiet street, but just a block from State and it's always an advantage to have a location near your customer base."

They exited the elevator on the seventh floor and Ranger looked across the tops of the low cubicles that broke up the huge high-ceilinged room. His mathematical brain did a quick assay, gauging the geometry of the area, noting its large windows and mentally subdividing it into rooms. Living room, dining room, kitchen, bedroom, office. It was just right.

"Give us a little time to talk it over and I'll get back to you," Ranger told the agent as they rode down to the basement garage.

After he and Tank got into the new BMW he'd purchased with some of the money from his last mission, Ranger steered up the ramp to the street and said, "How do you feel about overseeing renovation of the building?"

Tank grinned. "What, you tryin' to turn me into some kind of interior decorator?"

Ranger grinned back. "That way you can do your office in pink."

Tank barked out a laugh. "Damn, now I have to manage the remodeling just to make sure I don't end up with a pink office."

"And we'll have to hire someone for maintenance and housekeeping," Ranger continued. "I think I might have someone, two someones actually, a couple my parents know who do that kind of thing. I'll give you their info."

"No sweat," Tank said, adding, "Are you going to sell the Cameron Street building?"

Ranger had already made that decision. "No, I'll retain it as an investment. And I'd like to keep all the security equipment in the basement to use as a backup control room, even after we move into the new building. Never know when you might need it."

As he pulled into the parking lot on Cameron Street he got out his phone and dialed the real estate agent. "We've talked it over and I'd like to make an offer on the Haywood Street building."

**TBC in Part 9—Dusk and Summer  
**


	80. Dusk and Summer 1

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and staying with me through all the angst. Don't get too excited about the name of this song. It's not the end yet. Still two more songs after this one, although I'm pretty sure the last will be an epilogue. Ranger and Stephanie are about to meet again, but everything isn't going to be roses right away. But hang in there, babes! All will end well for our star-crossed lovers._

**Part 9—Dusk and Summer**

_She said, "no one is alone the way you are alone"  
And you held her looser than you would if you ever could have known  
Some things tie your life together, slender threads and things to treasure  
Days like that should last and last and last_

_—Chris Carrabba_

1

_Five months later, August, ten years after Carlos and Stephanie's summer in Point Pleasant_

Ranger lay on the beach soaking up the warm Sunday morning sun. After almost two years of nonstop hustling to get RangeMan established, he was taking a day off.

He'd come down to his shore house late last night and slept like a dead man for eight solid hours. After a morning run on the beach followed by a brisk swim, he spread out his towel on the sand, planning to spend the whole day relaxing, thinking, planning out his next steps for RangeMan.

He'd bought the beach house months ago and he could count on the fingers of one hand the nights he'd spent here. He'd planned to live down here for the summer since his apartment in Trenton wasn't going to be finished until September. But the demands of his business had taken precedence over his personal comfort and the hour drive each way was more than he felt he could spare. Well, maybe next summer.

When Ranger decided to buy a house last spring he told the realtor he wanted Point Pleasant, but it had to be on the beach and have enough property to set up an inaccessible perimeter with state-of-the art security. Nothing like that was available in Point Pleasant, but Mantoloking was just a few miles south, and this site was exactly what he wanted. The house was spacious and cool and uncluttered, with an open, modern layout that appealed to him and a whole wall of windows facing the ocean. And it was centered on a large landscaped lot with plenty of room for protection.

So he'd used most of the money from his first two contract missions as a down payment and financed the rest. It was actually the most high-tech security system Lester had installed to date, and it was top of the line in every way. Unbreakable codes on the gates, monitored cameras on all sides, motion sensors everywhere and an electronic access that was impossible to breach. It would take a rocket launcher to get into this property.

The house itself he hadn't changed at all, just added some simple furniture.

His mind drifted back to the office renovations in Trenton. Tank had handled the whole thing with professional aplomb, bringing the major decisions to Ranger and making the minor ones himself.

The top floor was lowest on Ranger's priority list, so left until last in the building remodeling. The security system and control room were done first, then the lobby area and meeting rooms designed to impress prospective clients. Then the gym and gun range, followed by the apartments for employees on the fourth floor and the sixth floor apartment where he'd just installed his mother's best friend Ella Guzman and her husband Luis. They were going to be just right, he thought. Ella had already taken over what he considered an onerous chore, furnishing the seventh floor. He really didn't give a shit about the décor and had much more important things to do with his time than pick out paint and window treatments.

The penthouse apartment would be finished in a few weeks and he'd move in, but for now he was still living in the old building on Cameron. All the offices there were rented out, generating a tidy profit, and renewal of the surrounding area had already boosted the property's value, with more to come. The only space retained by RangeMan was the basement control room. Ranger had moved his couch and clothes down there and bought a bed, setting the space up as a bunker, a kind of safe house with a partitioned bedroom and bath. It was quite comfortable, he could attest, having used it himself for the past few months. After sleeping on the couch in his office for eighteen months, the queen-size bed was a welcome luxury.

The morning sun soaked into Ranger's tired muscles and he relaxed and shut off his mind. The beach down here was much quieter and less crowded than Point Pleasant, an affluent area of expensive properties.

Just as he was starting to doze off the phone in the pocket of his shorts vibrated. He sat up and pulled it out. The control room.

"Yo." His usual greeting.

"Sorry to bother you, boss, but we've got a problem with the Garfield account." Bobby Brown was on monitor duty today. Ranger had just hired him a few weeks before on Tank's recommendation. The former Marine and Spec Ops veteran was exactly the kind of employee he wanted for RangeMan, tough, seasoned and intelligent, but still retaining respect for the chain of command.

"Sarge is out there," Bobby continued, referring to Tank, "but he says you'd better come smooth down the ruffled feathers if you want to make sure you get that additional business from the client."

"Tell him I'll be there by noon."

Well, so much for my day off, Ranger thought as he picked up his towel and jogged across the sand toward the gate to his house.

_oOo_

Stephanie awoke on Sunday morning with a groan, her hands going straight up to shield her eyes from the bright summer sunshine pouring in through the sheer white curtains. Her back was stiff from sleeping on the couch, and her head ached something fierce. She should have known better than to drink so much beer.

Joe Morelli had inherited his Aunt Rose's small row house at the edge of the Burg, and he'd gathered a group of friends the previous day to help him move. Mooch and Louis Morelli, of course, and a couple of off-duty detectives. And Stephanie.

After Joe set her to vacuuming, mopping floors and wiping down the bathrooms in the dusty house she decided he'd invited her along as house cleaner, and she muttered to herself the whole time she cleaned, moving aside each time the guys arrived with a pickup truck full of Joe's possessions. _Then_ Joe had driven her over to his empty apartment, leaving her with the bucket and mop, paper towels and Lysol. "Give me a call when you're done here and I'll come pick you up," Joe said, giving her ass a squeeze as he walked past on his way out the door. "We'll have pizza and beer at the house." And he was gone.

Stephanie was so pissed off at him that she'd been tempted to call Mary Lou or her dad to pick her up and take her straight home. But she was starved and decided Joe owed her a lot more than pizza and beer after making her clean all day. Plus she still hadn't found a job, so her cupboards were bare and she was broke. So she'd gone back to Joe's house, stuffed herself and watched a hockey game with the guys, drinking way too much beer in the process. And then she must have fallen asleep. Stupid, she thought. Now she'd have to do that awkward morning after thing with Joe, and she hadn't even gotten an orgasm out of it.

God, if she had her car she'd be so out of here, she thought. But Joe had picked her up yesterday, and there was no way she'd call Mary Lou or her dad to pick her up after she so obviously spent the night at Joe's.

She dragged herself off the couch and staggered into the kitchen. No Joe, just a note on the kitchen table saying he'd gone out for doughnuts and coffee and a paper and would be back soon.

The thought of doughnuts cheered Stephanie up, so she went into the powder room to pee. When she looked at herself in the small cloudy mirror over the sink she almost screamed. There was mascara smeared down her cheeks and drool dried on her chin, and her hair looked like something out of a horror movie.

Damn, do I ever need a shower, Stephanie thought, sniffing her armpits and making a face at the odor. She dragged herself up the stairs and rummaged around in Joe's bedroom until she found a white sleeveless undershirt and a pair of boxers with cartoon trees and toothy woodland animals printed on them, maybe bunnies, maybe squirrels, maybe something a little more exotic, like gophers. Kind of stupid, but at least they looked and smelled clean.

Just as she emerged from the bathroom wearing Joe's underwear, hair wrapped in a towel, the doorbell rang. She froze and waited, and after a minute it rang again. Maybe Joe locked himself out, she thought, or even better, maybe his hands were too full of doughnuts and coffee to get his keys out. She trotted down the stairs and went to the door.

"I see you're already moving in with my son now that he has a house." Angie Morelli's acid tone had Stephanie shrinking back, and before she could stop them Mrs. Morelli and Grandma Bella, dressed in their Sunday best and no doubt on their way to mass, were inside. One carried a casserole dish and the other a covered cake plate.

"Where's Joseph?" Mrs. Morelli demanded.

"Uh, he w-went out for a paper," Stephanie stammered, crossing her arms over her chest to hide the nipples that showed through the thin undershirt. "He should be… there he is now." She'd never been more relieved to see Joe's truck.

"So when are you two getting married?" Mrs. Morelli snapped at Joe before he was even in the front door. "No son of mine is going to live in sin, shaming the Morelli name."

"It isn't like that, Ma," Joe almost whined as they all trooped into the kitchen and his mother put the casserole in the refrigerator. "Stephanie got drunk last night and fell asleep on my couch."

Furious with him, Stephanie nevertheless nodded agreement. "I helped Joe move yesterday and I was just so tired…"

"I expect both of you for Sunday dinner today," Mrs. Morelli growled, her dark, beady eyes shooting sparks. "One o'clock sharp."

Six hours later Stephanie and Joe walked out of his mother's house together, both dazed. They drove to Stephanie's apartment in total silence.

"We'll figure it out, Cupcake." Joe gave her his rakish grin as she got out of the truck in her parking lot. "Hell, maybe it was meant to be."

Stephanie wasn't sure quite what had happened, but somehow she'd ended up wearing the small, bright diamond ring that Joe's father had given to his mother forty years before. When Angie Morelli made up her mind about something she was like a steamroller, squashing everything in her path flat as a pancake. She might as well have been deaf for all the good Stephanie's protests did, and by the time dinner was over Stephanie found herself engaged to be married to Joseph Morelli.

"_Don't call me Cupcake."_ She clenched her teeth, snarled at him and slammed the truck door as hard as she could.

_TBC_


	81. Dusk and Summer 2

**Dusk and Summer 2**

_The next morning_

"Hey, Connie, long time no see," Stephanie said, looking around the bonds office. Not much of a place, she thought, wondering why she'd bothered to get dressed up in a suit and pantyhose to come here. But she was a professional, she told herself, and if she didn't persuade Vinnie to give her a job today she was going to get kicked out of her apartment and have to move back in with her parents. Desperate times called for desperate measures and all those other clichés, thus the suit.

"Steph!" Connie exclaimed and then shrieked. "Omigod, let me see the ring! Is it Joe Morelli? When's the big day? Do you have a dress yet? Where's the reception going to be?"

"We haven't set a date yet, but we're planning a long engagement, two years." Stephanie's face burned. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of when Joe and his mother persuaded her to accept the ring yesterday.

She'd gone to dinner at her parents' house last night, in spite of the big dinner at Mrs. Morelli's. She needed the leftovers to get her through a few more days without starving. Her mother's elation at the sight of the engagement ring was excruciating. Mrs. Plum broke out a big bottle of sparkling wine and it was all Stephanie could do to stop her from calling the priest right then and there.

"Two years." Stephanie held firm. "Not next year, but the year after."

"I'll never understand these long engagements," her mother said. "Your father and I got engaged and were married six months later. Once you make up your mind, what's the point of waiting?"

"I just need some time," Stephanie told her. "Joe and I haven't been dating very long and I want to make sure this is right before I start putting down payments on halls and dresses."

Thank goodness Mrs. Plum didn't have a calendar for the year after next, so she couldn't force Stephanie to pick a date. Stephanie was sure next time she came for dinner her mother would have the calendar plus information from all the different caterers and banquet halls, florists, photographers, and everything else. Stephanie just hoped her mom would let her choose her own dress.

And on top of all that, her Miata had been repossessed and she finally had to admit to her parents that she'd lost her job.

Now, twelve hours later, penniless and desperate, she was blackmailing her sleazy cousin into giving her a bond recovery. Thank God for Connie and the favor some bounty hunter owed her because Stephanie knew nothing at all about skip tracing.

But it turned out she was lucky. The skip was a Trenton detective named Mickey Lauder, a high school classmate of Joseph Morelli's and former boyfriend of her sister Valerie. The charge was murder, but Stephanie knew Mickey and was certain it must have been a mistake. And she wasn't afraid that he'd hurt her. He'd been a really nice guy in high school.

Since Stephanie had a couple hours to kill before she was scheduled to meet with the bounty hunter guy she tried Lauder's apartment, empty, and then drove to his mother's house. Surprise, surprise, there he was, walking out the front door carrying a big bag that looked like food.

Unfortunately, Lauder didn't respond well to her request for him to accompany her to the police station, and he pointed his gun at her as he got in his car and drove away leaving her standing on the sidewalk staring after him open-mouthed.

It was hot and humid, the dog days of August, and the ancient Nova she'd bought with the last of her emergency cash had a broken air conditioner. The midday sun was shining through the windows, creating a sauna inside, so Stephanie slithered out of her damp pantyhose and tossed them balled up onto the floor of the passenger side. They lay there adding a little olfactory variety to the reek of exhaust and air pollution that poured in through the car's open windows. Today was the perfect example of that old joke about Jersey residents, Stephanie thought. We don't want to breathe anything we can't see.

She was sweating like a pig when she got downtown, glowing, she thought with a wry smile, remembering Mary Lou's euphemism. But while she was sitting in the parking lot waiting for the farting and grumbling of her engine to die, a sudden chill struck her. Her arms broke out in gooseflesh and a tremor scratched its way from the very base of her spine all the way up to her neck, prickling and raising the hair on the back of her head.

Something was off, she thought, staring at the Greentree Café and seeing nothing amiss. She looked around at the parking lot, shrugged and got out of the car. But all the way across the lot and up the steps to the diner the back of her neck itched like crazy, as if a family of fleas had taken up residence there and was feasting on her. Without conscious thought her hand went to her chest to wrap around the sapphire heart hanging between her breasts. She'd put it on a long cord to keep it hidden behind her clothes and wore it always, like a talisman, some kind of protection.

Stephanie thought it would be a relief to walk from the glare of the parking lot into the coolness of the restaurant, but as she went through the doorway her whole body was vibrating. What the hell was wrong?

_oOo_

It was supposed to have been yesterday, Sunday, but the problem with the Garfield account had postponed Ranger's day off. Instead of spending the day on the beach as planned he'd spent it soothing ruffled feathers. The client was important enough and the account lucrative enough to make it worth taking whatever time was required. He hadn't gotten back to the beach house until dark.

So he was taking Monday off instead, he'd told Tank at the end of the mess yesterday. He had no business meetings scheduled, and Tank had already proven himself an able second-in-command and capable business manager in Ranger's absence. Ranger had been back in South America again twice over the summer, and he'd aced each mission and earned a bucketload of money while Tank kept things going in Trenton.

Ranger had also been to Miami a couple of times, stopping in to see Julie while he attended to business down there. He'd established a Miami office in partnership with an old friend from Special Forces, and it was going so well that Ranger was looking into Boston and Atlanta as sites for possible further expansion.

His thirtieth birthday was coming up in less than a week, and Ranger was well satisfied with the way the business was growing. RangeMan was his sole focus, occupying his whole being, and things were proceeding according to plan. And if the memory of curly hair, flawless pale skin and blue eyes to die for crept into his dreams, he was resolute in banishing it from conscious thought. He didn't have the time or inclination for a relationship, even if there'd been a woman he cared for.

Ranger was relaxed, soaking up the sun, his mind turning over possible expansion scenarios for RangeMan when the phone in the pocket of his shorts vibrated.

Not again, he thought, exhaling and sitting up, looking at the display. Vinnie's office. He almost let it go to voicemail, but then reconsidered. It was probably just a file with an exceptionally high bond and Vinnie wanted to talk to him about it. He could go by tomorrow morning first thing.

"Yo," he answered.

"Hey Ranger, are you busy?" Connie asked. "I need a favor."

Three hours later Ranger was back in Trenton, dressed in his usual working attire of black t-shirt, black cargoes and boots, sitting against the wall in a small downtown sandwich shop not far from his Haywood office. He would have put the meeting off until tomorrow, but he owed Connie a lot, and it sounded like her friend was in desperate need of guidance. He'd realized after he hung up that Connie hadn't given him the new bond enforcement agent's name, just that it was a woman and a friend of hers. He decided it didn't matter, that the woman would find him. The café was almost empty at two o'clock, the lunch hour over.

Ranger had a good view of the whole room, as well as most of the parking lot, and he watched through the window as an ancient battered and dented rust bucket pulled in and parked. The car shuddered and shook, emitting big puffs of black smoke from the tailpipe before the engine sputtered and faded away. He stared at it. Something about it gave him a hollow feeling in his chest, a little nip between his shoulder blades.

And then the driver got out and his pulse pounded in his throat, hot blood rushed through his veins. Curly dark hair, a slim figure, long pale legs and a rumpled gray suit.

Suddenly there wasn't enough oxygen in the air.

As she walked across the parking lot toward the restaurant her ring finger flashed. A diamond. Ranger pulled the mirrored sunglasses from where they hung in the neckband of his black t-shirt and shoved them on, setting his face into an expressionless mask as Stephanie Plum walked into the diner.

_TBC_


	82. Dusk and Summer 3

**Dusk and Summer 3**

Stephanie paused just inside the entrance of the diner, her knees trembling, her hand gripping the glass case that held the cash register. Like a shot her eyes fixated on the corner of the room, on the man seated with his back to the wall, and he disappeared behind black voids that formed in the center of her vision.

"Just sit anywhere," the busy waitress said, glancing at Stephanie and then stopping and dumping the tray she was carrying onto an empty table. She reached out to grab Stephanie's free arm and moved close, blocking her view while steadying her swaying form to stop her from keeling over.

"Honey, you look like you've seen a ghost," the waitress said. "You're white as a sheet. Let me help you sit down and I'll get you some water."

It was a tremendous effort, but Stephanie shook her head and blinked, sucking in a deep breath to push back the blackness. "It's okay," she said. "I'm okay. It's just the heat."

"Are you kidding?" the waitress said. "Your hands are like ice."

"I've got her." Stephanie gasped as the familiar deep voice came from behind the waitress, and the hand that took her arm sent a shockwave through her body, a million volts of emotion that had her flinching.

Ranger's arm went around her waist and he half carried her back to his table, setting her down on the bench seat of the booth and keeping his hand on her shoulder until she slid over to the center.

The waitress was already there with two glasses of water as Ranger took his seat opposite her. As she set the water down the waitress asked, "Can I get you anything else right now?"

"Coke," Ranger commanded. "Two."

Stephanie was staring at him, at the gaunt but still beautiful face set in sharp-edged bleakness, its perfection marred by several small scars that hadn't been there ten years before. She told herself that she'd mistaken Julio for Carlos once before. And she couldn't see his eyes, just her own reflection in the mirrored sunglasses. But the reaction of her body told her beyond a doubt that it was Carlos.

Of their own accord her hands reached across the narrow table to his face, taking hold of the sides of the sunglasses, and as she started to pull them off his hands came up to grip her wrists. The fire of his touch was enough to render her motionless. The heat of his hands on her ice-cold wrists sent the fever coursing up her arms and she felt her face transform from icy white to heated pink.

After a long frozen minute Stephanie regained control of herself and drew the sunglasses downward. The instant she saw his eyes over the top of the black frames she was certain.

"Carlos," she whispered.

As the sunglasses came off he shook his head. "Not Carlos, not anymore."

"What do I call you?" she asked, breathless.

"My street name. Ranger."

Stephanie stared into his eyes, trying to read them. Before, long ago, she'd been able to see his thoughts, his feelings in his eyes, but today there was nothing there. None of the love that had been so familiar, no friendship, no comfort or sweetness. They were devoid of expression. She saw only nothingness.

His hands still held her wrists, and she raised her right hand, removing it from his grasp to touch the left side of his face with her finger, tracing it over the lighter tissue that marked the scars of ten years. A thin pale horizontal line just above his left eyebrow. A larger, darker mark along his jawline on the same side. And finally a half-inch slant of a scar just above the arch of his upper lip.

And then her finger was brushing along the lip itself and he reached up again to take her wrist and bring her hand back down to the table.

She looked down, studying his large brown hands wrapped around her wrists. A couple of new scars there, too, and rougher skin than before. Calluses on the fingers. Nails clean and trimmed short. No rings.

Time passed, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat before she was able to speak. "You got married," she said.

"And divorced, a long time ago," he replied.

A long pause before Stephanie raised questioning blue eyes back to his.

"You had a baby."

"A daughter. Julie. Almost eight now. She lives in Miami with her mother and stepfather."

"Do you ever see her?"

"When I'm down there."

Another long pause while Stephanie hesitated, uncertain, her eyes searching his for some sign of life, feelings, emotions.

Ranger spoke. "You got married, too." Nothing on his face, but there was something she couldn't decipher in his voice as he continued. "To Dickie."

One side of Stephanie's mouth turned up in an ironic smile. "It didn't last long."

He looked down at her hands on the table, at the diamond that sparkled there, then back up. "But there's someone else now."

It didn't really happen. It was just a nightmare, Stephanie told herself, but the ring on her finger proved it had been real.

"Who's the guy?" Ranger asked.

Stephanie's breath caught and her heart twisted at the enormity of her mistake. The fucking Burg had caught her again. She knew when Mrs. Morelli produced the ring and gave it to Joe to place on her finger that it was wrong, but the situation, the dominance of Mrs. Morelli's personality, had overwhelmed her. She'd never told Joe yes, but she hadn't been forceful enough to say no and now it was done until she could undo it.

She wanted to scream, to cry, to tell him it wasn't real, it wasn't her decision, but all she did was answer his question. "Joseph Morelli."

"The cop." She wouldn't have thought Ranger's voice could get any flatter, any more expressionless, but it just had.

She inclined her head in a tiny nod. "We've known each other since we were kids."

His hands released her wrists and dropped to his lap as the waitress bustled over with glasses of Coke and menus.

When the waitress left Ranger said, "Drink the Coke, Stephanie. The fluids and the sugar and the caffeine will help."

Stephanie. Not Babe. Her chest ached and her hand went up to where the sapphire lay under her blouse, just a brief touch.

Stephanie picked up the Coke and drank, her eyes still on Ranger's. When she set the glass back down she licked the moisture from her lips and there might have a flash of something in his eyes. But it was gone, maybe was never there at all, and they were as impassive as before.

"How's Julio?" Stephanie asked and was surprised to see another flicker of something cross Ranger's face. "The last time I wrote to him it came back as undeliverable. Is he home?"

Ranger took a sip of his water. His voice was low and hollow when he answered. "I'll tell you about him some other time."

After another long pause while Stephanie finished her Coke he said, "Are you the new bounty hunter Connie called me about?"

Stephanie nodded.

He moved her Coke glass aside and slid his own over to her. "Did Vinnie give you a skip?"

"Mickey Lauder."

Silence. No expression. Stephanie kept her eyes on Ranger's, waiting. After what seemed like an hour he said, "What can I do to help?"

"I don't know anything. Tell me what I need to do."

"Find the man, bring him in, collect your ten percent."

"Well," said Stephanie, "I already found him."

For the first time an expression appeared on Ranger's face. One eyebrow raised a fraction of an inch. Surprise.

"He didn't want to go to the police station," Stephanie continued, "and he pointed a gun at me."

The corners of Ranger's mouth twitched. Amusement? "And then what?" he asked.

"He left."

A genuine smile lit Ranger's face, and the sight took Stephanie back ten years like a sword to the chest, lancing her with an agonizing combination of the love she'd had for him and the fierce pain of his departure. Tears stung her lower lids and she looked down at the table, taking the second Coke and sipping so that she had an excuse not to look at him, not to let him see.

As she set the glass back down his hand came across the table to cup her chin, tip her face up to meet his gaze. She blinked the tears back and gave him her own blank look.

"Babe," he said, and then the tears overflowed.

_TBC_


	83. Dusk and Summer 4

_Slight Cupcake warning. Ranger doesn'__t have a very high opinion of Joe._

**Dusk and Summer 4**

Stephanie dropped the heavy leather bag to the floor just inside the door of her apartment. She was lucky she had it with her today, and that it was big enough to hold the tools of her new trade.

Ranger had spent hours with her this afternoon. He'd been very kind after her tears. She'd scrubbed them away, dug out a tissue to blow her nose and apologized for getting emotional, telling Ranger she'd had a bad few days. He just nodded, face blank again. But then he'd insisted on buying her lunch, nibbling on a salad while he sat watching her eat.

He hadn't asked her why she cried, nor had he offered any personal information about himself, and she'd been afraid to ask.

He was different, there was no doubt about that. Stephanie didn't know what had happened to him in the army or what had turned him from the Carlos she'd fallen in love with into Ranger, an unknown quantity, a complete stranger with those flat soldier eyes. She did know that she was a bit afraid of him, frightened by his lack of expression, his seeming lack of emotion.

Even the single "Babe" that escaped him had been different, more amused than affectionate.

After she'd finished a big juicy burger and fries, Ranger took her in his gleaming black BMW back to Vinnie's office, where he convinced Connie to give her a pair of handcuffs and a pocket-sized canister of pepper spray that were back in the storeroom. Then they went to a small shop in a part of Trenton she'd never been to before. She had just enough money left in her debit account to buy a gun, a Smith and Wesson thirty-eight revolver that Ranger said was a good fit for her small hand.

Then they'd gone to the shooting range. Stephanie was flat-out broke, but without asking her for any money Ranger went to the counter and got a box of reloads. He showed her how to clean the gun first, then load and unload it, assemble and disassemble. After doing that ten times for practice he set up a target fifteen feet away and told her to go ahead and shoot.

He'd kept well clear of her when she was shooting at the head-and-shoulders shape, and even when he reached in to support her grip, his huge hand covering both of hers, he'd been careful not to let their bodies come into contact. Stephanie thought it was odd, but put it down to a quirk of this man she didn't know anymore. He didn't like to touch, she decided.

After Stephanie's arms were shaking with exhaustion from holding up the pistol, Ranger took her back to the Greentree, finishing his crash course in the law as it applied to fugitive apprehension as he drove. It was pretty straightforward, nothing difficult to understand. The hard part, Ranger said, was usually finding the skip. Stephanie thought the hardest part for her was going to be making the capture once she found Mickey Lauder again.

When Ranger dropped her off at her car he'd said, "One more thing," and dug into his pocket.

"This is a stun gun." He held out a small, matte black box with metal electrodes on one side and a button on the top. "Hold it like this, press it against any bare skin and push the button. It will put the skip out like a light for five to ten minutes so you can cuff him."

Stephanie held the small weapon in her hand. "Doesn't it work through clothes?" she asked.

"It will," Ranger said, "but no guarantees it'll put a guy down. Always go for bare skin as a first option."

"Thanks," Stephanie said, offering the stun gun back. "I'll get one as soon as I can."

"No, you keep it for now. I'll have someone drop off the charger. Make sure it's charged up and in your pocket when you're doing a takedown."

"Thanks," Stephanie said again, "for everything."

He made his tiny head movement, almost a nod.

She gave him a little wave after she shut his car door, expecting him to drive away. But he didn't, just sat there in his car beside hers. Stephanie got into the Nova and rolled down the windows, almost bowled over by the smell and the accumulated heat. It was humiliating how long it took the piece-of-shit car to start. When she began to back out of the parking slot her view was obscured by the clouds of black smoke issuing from her tailpipe. As she pulled out onto the street, the car belching and jerking before kicking in and roaring, she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw the BMW roll off, silent and smooth, in the opposite direction.

_oOo_

Ranger dragged himself into bed at three a.m., so tired he could barely stand. He'd driven himself to the brink of exhaustion in the gym, then spent hours out on the streets looking for a skip.

It was an exercise in futility. He knew he wasn't going to find the skip in any of the bars on Stark Street tonight, but trudging from place to place, asking questions, meeting up with informants and intimidating the scum-of-the-earth bar patrons was a way to keep his mind occupied.

But the moment he got back to the basement bunker at Cameron Street the thoughts started circling again, so he'd spent another hour sitting on the couch typing up a proposal for a prospective client on his laptop.

When his eyes drooped and his shoulders slumped with fatigue, he gave up and got in bed. But his brain was still busy, buzzing like a whole hive of bees.

Stephanie Plum. How the hell was he going to mentor her when all he wanted to do was throw her over his shoulder like some fucking caveman and drag her off to bed? When she'd taken off his sunglasses and looked in his eyes, when his hands closed over her wrists he'd sprung an erection the likes of which he hadn't had for, Christ, ten fucking years.

He groaned and clamped a hand over his dick, enormous again from just thinking about her. Only a few hours with her and he was going up in flames, unable to concentrate, finding it impossible to think about anything else.

He'd thought he was happy focusing on building up RangeMan. Hard work had dragged him out of the depths of despair he'd been stuck in when he got out of the military, and the money he'd made in the process was just gravy. It was the endeavor itself that was his real reward.

There was no way he had room in his life for a woman, a girlfriend. His lifestyle was too centered on his business. He worked all the time, traveled often, and undertook life-threatening secret missions for the military. A woman just wouldn't fit. She'd feel neglected and used, only seeing him for a quick fuck before he was off to work again. No woman worth having would put up with it.

And Stephanie was engaged.

For God's sake, to Joe fucking Morelli of all people. Ranger knew him a little, knew his reputation better. The guy had screwed every skirt in Trenton and a large proportion of those in the rest of Jersey. Morelli was a player, an operator. He bragged about the number of virgins he'd deflowered in high school, some epic number.

Why the hell would a guy like that get engaged?

Well, he could understand it because it was Stephanie. She would make anyone want to settle down. Those blue eyes were just the same, flooding him with longing, threatening to drown him in their depths. Her face had lost the rounded innocence of nineteen, and at twenty-nine she was breathtaking. Too thin, though. He wanted to feed her, to watch her eat, and it had taken all his willpower to drop her at her car, let her drive away.

Shit. It was past three and he had to be up at five-thirty, six at the latest. He did the only thing that would give him relief. Both hands gripped his cock and he gave himself over to the memory of Stephanie Plum

_oOo_

Stephanie lay awake in her lonely bed listening to the whirr and clunk and gurgle of the window air conditioner in the living room. It was the middle of the freaking night and her mind just wouldn't turn off, wouldn't leave things alone.

She'd thought she was happy, would have sworn she was a year ago. Even after she had to move from Hoboken back to Trenton she was still satisfied with the way things were going.

Now her life was crap. She was jobless, soon to be homeless, and engaged to a man she didn't love. And the memory of that magical summer in Point Pleasant was washing over her, that summer when she'd found out what it meant to be beyond happiness, all the way to heaven.

For years she'd have given anything to be with Carlos again. Now she'd found him, and found out he didn't exist anymore. There was just this… Ranger… this cold-blooded, dispassionate soldier that she didn't know and wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

And yet his nearness still sent chills through her body, caused her nipples to harden just being in the same room with him. She ached for what they'd had together. Such a short time, and yet it was all she wanted forever.

Stephanie's hands moved over her body, remembering, and settled between her legs, allowing the fantasy of his touch to take over.

_TBC_


	84. Dusk and Summer 5

**Dusk and Summer 5**

Ranger awoke at five-thirty furious with himself. He was an idiot. He'd gotten complacent after almost two years in Trenton without any word about Stephanie Plum, and her sudden appearance had caught him off guard. He'd done his best to keep her at arms' length, but he should have anticipated meeting her along the way, planned out scenarios and schooled his own reactions.

She was just someone from his past, he told himself in the dreary light of early morning, back in his present for a brief moment, but not destined to be in his future. He was certain that the bounty hunting job wouldn't last, although he had to give her credit for finding Mickey Lauder so fast, even if she lost him again just as fast.

He'd help her out if she asked, he decided, but he wasn't going to go out of his way to seek her out. She was engaged, to that asswipe Morelli of all people. Shake it off, he told himself. It's her life and she's nothing to you anymore, just someone who's working for Vinnie until she finds a real job. Forget about Stephanie Plum.

Dressed in his running shorts and a t-shirt, he drove over to Haywood and dropped off his laptop and files in his office before jogging down the stairs and through the lobby. Out on the street he warmed up for a few minutes and decided to do his long route this morning even though it wasn't his normal schedule. A good run would kick up the endorphins and help him get through the day on only a couple hours of sleep.

By eight o'clock he was showered and dressed, sitting in the conference room waiting for Tank and Lester. His knees were still a little shaky from the grueling run followed by a punishing bout of weight-lifting in the gym, but his mind was on the business, ready to work.

"How was the beach yesterday?" Lester asked as he walked around the table and dropped into the seat at Ranger's right.

"Fine." Ranger continued to study the papers in front of him, jotting notes and reminders on a lined yellow legal tablet.

"Bullshit." Lester's exclamation caused Ranger to raise his head and look at him, eyebrow up.

"You sure it's not horseshit?" Tank's deep rumbling chuckle preceded him into the room, and he took the seat on Ranger's left.

"Yup, positive," Les said with a grin. "The nose knows. I can tell by the smell. Pure, unadulterated bullshit."

"What's bullshit?" Tank asked.

"The boss is full of it. I asked him how the beach was yesterday and he said fine."

Tank nodded. "Uh-huh, definitely bullshit."

Both of Ranger's eyebrows were now up. "Oh, really," he said.

Les grinned. "You were seen at the Greentree having lunch with a beautiful woman. So who was she, boss, and how many times did you do her?"

"Enough," Ranger growled, picking up copies of a stapled document and passing them to the two of them. "This is the proposal for the Canton security system. Les, take a look at the specs in Appendix A. I need you to fill in some blanks."

Half an hour later Ranger sank down into his desk chair with an almost-sigh. Les was a great guy, fun to have around and a whiz at security systems. But he could also be a royal pain in the ass. He wasn't going to drop it until he found out who the woman was.

Ranger looked down at the pad in front of him, an amalgam of tasks and reminders. The first thing on his list was to check out the background of the Canton Company, make sure they were in good enough financial shape to be able to pay his bills if his proposal was satisfactory.

His computer was on and he clicked on the icon to open the first search program. He stared at the screen. There it was, ready and waiting, two links to choose from, two types of searches. Corporation or individual.

Without even thinking about it, Ranger clicked on the "Individual" button and typed in the name "Stephanie Plum."

_oOo_

Stephanie awoke at eight-thirty Tuesday morning after a restless few hours of sleep. She had to do something, keep busy to get the fantasies, the dreams about Ranger out of her head, so she was going to concentrate full out on finding Mickey Lauder.

Somebody had to know where Lauder was, Stephanie decided, so she had a breakfast of coffee and a stale jelly doughnut that she'd picked up from her mother's kitchen and made a list of all the people she remembered him hanging out with in high school. Still in the boxers and tank top she'd slept in, she sat on her couch with her phone and started making calls.

It was too early to call Val in California, so she began with Lauder's ex-wife and the local friends she knew of.

"I haven't seen Mickey in years," seemed to be the standard response to her inquiries, even from his ex. But almost every person she talked with gave her another name or two, and she spent the whole morning on the phone, leaving voicemails where she couldn't reach people.

After a lunch of leftover pot roast from her mother's Sunday dinner, Stephanie decided to go stake out Lauder's apartment. Maybe he'd try to sneak back in and pick up some of his things.

She showered and dressed in khaki shorts and a blue tank top, hesitating when she looked at the jewelry sitting on her dresser. A sapphire heart on a long black silk cord and a small diamond solitaire on a narrow gold band. Sighing, she put them both on, tucking the sapphire into the neck of her top.

After packing a large bottle of water and some crackers swiped from her parents' house Stephanie got into the crappy Nova and jerked and sputtered down Hamilton Avenue. She'd have to get a mechanic to take a look at it, but she didn't know how she was going to pay for it.

Mickey's apartment was on the north side of the city, handy to police headquarters where he'd worked as a homicide detective before he'd been arrested. The brick building wasn't all that different from hers, and she found a tiny piece of shade in the back corner of his parking lot, backing in and rolling down all the windows to try for any faint breeze that might happen by.

When the Nova had finally coughed and sputtered to silence Stephanie sat and stared at the building. She'd managed to stay busy enough all morning to keep her mind off Ranger, but every time she had a free moment there he'd be, dominating her thoughts. She couldn't possibly still be in love with him, she told herself. It was just such a shock to see him again, that's why all those old feelings were resurfacing.

She had to do something to occupy her mind, so she got her phone out of her handbag and tried Joe again. She hadn't been able to reach him for two days, and she needed to see him, to get this whole engagement thing straightened out. She seldom called Joe, leaving it up to him to call her, and she'd often go a week or more without hearing from him. He worked long hours, lots of nights, and sometimes disappeared for days or weeks at a time on undercover assignments. But in the past six months or so, since they'd been sleeping together, he'd started calling her to let her know if he was going to be out of town.

She'd already left messages on both Joe's cell phone and at his house, so she didn't leave another one. She got out the list of phone numbers she'd made earlier and began re-trying the people she hadn't reached this morning.

Three hours later the phone lay on Stephanie's lap. Her eyelids were drooping, drifting closed and then flying open with a start. She really needed a nap. She drank some water and ate some crackers to try to keep awake. Sitting here felt like a waste of time, but she didn't have anything better to do. She'd called every name on her list, and her cell phone wasn't ringing up a storm with return calls.

Fifteen more minutes, she decided, wiping the sweat from her face and neck with a crumpled paper napkin dampened from the water bottle and leaning her head back against the ratty headrest. It was four o'clock and the heat of the day made the car unbearable. She kind of needed to pee, anyway. She could go over to her parents' house and get dinner while she was there.

Her eyes closed.

The loud ker-snick of a bullet slapping into the chamber of a gun awakened her with a start and she opened her mouth to scream. But before a sound came out the gun barrel pressed against the side of her head and a rough voice growled, "Keep your mouth shut, bitch, or your bounty hunting days are over."

She rolled her eyes to the right to see Mickey Lauder sitting in the passenger seat of her car, door wide open. He held a gun against her temple with one hand while he rooted in her handbag with the other.

"Jesus fucking Christ, how do you ever find anything in here?" he muttered, and then gave a grunt of satisfaction and pulled out her handcuffs. Before she realized what was happening, her hands were cuffed together with the chain of the handcuffs running through the steering wheel.

With the gun no longer to her head she turned and looked at Lauder. He'd been a pretty good-looking guy in high school with regular features, dark brown hair and eyes, and an open, friendly smile. He hadn't aged well, Stephanie thought, noting the frown lines on his face, the double chin and the big belly hanging over his belt.

"Things will go better if you let me take you in," she said.

"Yeah, right, better for _you,_" Lauder sneered, his mouth twisting into a parody of a smile. "As for me, I'm really looking forward to getting butt-fucked fifty or sixty or a hundred times. You know what happens to cops in prison."

"But you didn't really kill Hennessey, did you? I'm sure if you help them they'll find out who did it."

His lips pressed together into a thin hard line and he got out of the car. "Just stop looking for me, cunt, or you'll be sorry." He still held her handbag.

"Wait, Mickey, leave me my bag so I can unlock myself after you leave."

"Sure thing, bitch." Malevolence filled his voice. "I'll leave it right here." He slammed the door and walked across the lot to the dumpster, lifting the lid and tossing the bag in.

Stephanie could have screamed with frustration as he walked out of the lot and down the street. After a minute she heard a car start with a roar and go screeching away.

Shit, shit, shit, she thought, leaning forward and resting her head in her cuffed hands.

_TBC_


	85. Dusk and Summer 6

**Dusk and Summer 6**

Crap, crap, crap. There was no way Stephanie could get her handbag out of the dumpster with her hands cuffed to the steering wheel.

Her phone, she thought, the relief making her giddy. It must have been on her lap and fallen between her legs when she dozed off. She could call someone to come get her bag so she could unlock the cuffs.

Her hands were cuffed to the top of the steering wheel and she couldn't reach the phone that was nestled in her crotch. She tried hooking her right arm around and bringing it back through from behind to allow her left hand enough slack to reach the phone. No good.

She tried to turn the wheel so that her hands were cuffed at the bottom, but the power steering was too stiff. She had to turn the ignition on. No problem. She could reach the key with her right hand.

Car started and belching, she turned the wheel until the chain of the cuff was at the bottom and grabbed the phone with her left hand. Then considering, she turned it back halfway before turning the car off again. That was more comfortable, and she could use the speakerphone so she didn't have to hold the phone to her ear.

Now, who to call?

Easy decision. She pressed speed dial.

"You have reached the Stankovic residence. Lenny, Mary Lou, Kenny and Mikey can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and we'll call you back… Beep."

Okay, Mary Lou wasn't at home. Stephanie tried her cell phone.

Three rings and then voicemail.

She really had to pee now, so no matter how embarrassing her situation was she had to get someone over here, and fast. She speed-dialed Joe's cell phone.

Straight to voicemail. "Joe, it's Steph. Please call me as soon as you get this message. It's important."

Joe's house, answering machine. She left the same message. His office, voicemail. Same message.

Crap, crap, crap. Now who?

She tried Eddie Gazarra. No answer.

Where the hell is everyone, Stephanie wondered. You'd think someone would be either at home or at work at five o'clock on a Tuesday.

Her father, she thought. She pressed speed dial for home.

"Hey, Mom, it's Stephanie. Is Dad around?"

"Oh, Stephanie, I'm so glad you called. I'm looking at the calendar for the year after next. May and June are lovely months for a wedding."

"Mom."

"I checked with Nicolosi's and they don't have any bookings for receptions yet. So you can pick May second, ninth or sixteenth."

"Mom."

"The twenty-third will be Memorial Day weekend, so I don't think you should take that…"

"_Mom!"_

"There's no need to shout, Stephanie. What?"

"Is Dad there?"

"No, your father is out driving that taxicab. He'll be home at six for dinner. Now, in June there's the sixth, thirteenth, twentieth or twenty-seventh."

"Mom, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later." Stephanie ended the call to the sound of her mother's voice still spewing from the speaker.

Crap, crap, crap.

Nobody was around. And this was a really embarrassing situation. She didn't want just anyone to know how incompetent she was.

But on the other hand, she really had to pee bad now. She pressed her legs together and paged back through her received calls looking for a certain number.

Yesterday afternoon Ranger had pulled out his Blackberry and asked her for her cell phone number. As she recited it he punched it in and her phone's default ring tone pealed out, making her jump. "There," Ranger had said, "now you have my number in your received calls. If you have a problem just call."

Well, she certainly had a problem now. She pushed the button to dial.

"Yo." Her heart hammered at the sound of his voice.

"C… uh, Ranger?"

"Yeah?"

"It's Stephanie. I've got a problem."

_oOo_

Ranger sat in his office studying the background check on Stephanie Plum. He'd gotten busy this morning while the computer was running, so he'd saved the reports to his hard drive and was just getting around to looking them over.

He looked at her address, an apartment in Hamilton Township, and Mapquested its location, just in case he had to go there. She'd moved in a year ago next month, and he'd had no idea she was so close. Again he berated himself for not finding out where she was sooner.

Unemployed, he knew that. She'd collected unemployment benefits for twenty weeks, and when they ran out she'd done some temp jobs through an agency in Trenton.

Then he got to her credit check. Three credit cards, all maxed. Mazda Miata repossessed for failure to make payments. Savings account closed a couple of months ago. And checking account balance of $17.84.

Regret twisted into his heart. When Stephanie had said she needed the bounty for Mickey Lauder because she was broke, she hadn't been kidding. That gun she'd bought yesterday had completely cleaned her out. He wished he'd known how desperate her situation was. He had plenty of guns. He'd have given her one.

And that car. What a piece of shit. He had four cars, all new.

Then he caught himself. Yeah, he could have given her a gun, no problem there. But a car? Too much.

He wondered about Joe Morelli. Why hadn't she moved in with him? He had a good job, earned a decent salary as a Trenton detective. They were engaged, after all. She'd be moving in with him anyway once they got married.

He wondered when the wedding would be.

Ranger finished looking over the reports. Nothing more of consequence. He went back to the page with her basic information and entered Stephanie's apartment address and phone number into his Blackberry.

Then he sat staring at the entry. He really didn't need her cell phone on speed dial, he told himself. If he ever needed to call her he could get her number from his directory.

He punched the buttons to look at his one-touch speed dial numbers to see if any of them needed to be changed. He had Tank, Lester, the control room, everything he needed.

Speed dial number one was the answering machine in the old office on Cameron. That phone had been moved down to the basement backup control room, but nobody was ever there except him. He didn't need that number on speed dial anymore.

Without analyzing, rationalizing or even thinking about it, he programmed Stephanie's cell phone into single-touch speed dial number one.

He'd just set the cell phone down and cleared Stephanie's background information from his computer screen when the phone rang. He looked at the display and his heart gave a little heave. He'd just programmed that number in.

"Yo," he said.

"C… uh, Ranger?"

"Yeah?"

"It's Stephanie. I've got a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"I found Mickey Lauder again." She hesitated and then went on. "Well, really, he kind of found me."

"Do you need help bringing him in?"

Stephanie's sigh hissed through the airwaves. "No, he's gone again. But before he left he kind of handcuffed me to my steering wheel."

Ranger couldn't have stopped the smile that covered his face if he'd wanted to. He tried to keep his voice neutral as he asked, "Where are you?"

"In his parking lot. Thirteen forty-eight Brunswick."

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

_oOo_

Stephanie stuck her left arm through the steering wheel so she could reach the rearview mirror with her right hand, turning it toward her to check out her hair. Not good, but at least she had it pulled back. She leaned her head forward into her hands and smoothed the clump of hair that Mickey Lauder had dislodged with his gun barrel back into the ponytail.

She wasn't wearing any makeup except a little mascara, so nothing to repair there. She managed to get a hold of the damp napkin and wiped the sweat from her face again. The sun had moved around and was now shining through her windshield, raising the temperature in the car to a very uncomfortable level. Her cheeks were flushed pink. Oh well, no need for any blusher. Good thing, since it was in her purse in the dumpster.

She'd been sweating in the heat of the parking lot all afternoon, and she hoped she didn't smell too ripe. Nothing she could do about it anyway, except try to keep her arms down. At least she'd showered this morning and shaved her legs and armpits so she wasn't all stubbly. That would _really_ be embarrassing.

She wondered where Ranger had been when she called and how long it would take him to get here. It was rush hour, so traffic was slow everywhere. He'd said a few minutes, so he must be in Trenton. He must have an office here somewhere. She wondered where. She wondered where he lived, if it was in Trenton or somewhere outside the city.

Stephanie played with her phone to keep her mind off things she'd rather not think about. Like the fact that Ranger was on his way here right now. Like how bad she had to pee.

She brought his cell phone number back up on her display and pressed the button "add to contacts," punching in the letters for his name. R-A-N-G-E-R. Then she thought about speed dial. If she was really going to do this bounty hunter thing, she was probably going to need Ranger's help now and then.

She punched through the menus to get to her speed dial list. All nine of the one-button numbers were filled, and she looked over the names. Amy, Mary Lou, her parents, Joe's cell, Joe's house, 911.

She almost never called Amy anymore. It had been eleven months since Amy got married and Stephanie moved to Trenton. She programmed Ranger's cell phone into single-touch speed dial number one.

The sound of tires on asphalt drew her attention and Stephanie looked up to see a shiny black Porsche Turbo roll into the parking lot.

_TBC_


	86. Dusk and Summer 7

**Dusk and Summer 7**

Ranger pulled the Turbo into the spot beside Stephanie's old junker, surveyed the parking lot and got out, opening the handcuffs with a key from his pocket without saying a word, no expression on his face. The moment she was free Stephanie leaped out of her car, raced for the dumpster and stepped up on the rim that went around the bottom edge. She reached inside and yanked out her big black handbag, held it up and looked it over, nodded and raced back to her car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat.

"Thanks, Batman," she said, jumping into the driver's seat. "Gotta run."

Ranger stood bemused in the parking lot, watching the Nova lurch and jolt, puking out billows of smoky exhaust until she got up enough speed and roared off.

This was a story he had to hear, he decided, climbing into the Turbo and heading out Hamilton Avenue toward Stephanie's apartment, hoping that was where she'd gone. Of course she might have had to meet Morelli, and maybe that's why she was in such a hurry. But it wouldn't hurt to look over her apartment, assess what kind of security she had.

Ranger arrived at the boxy brick building at St. James and Dunworth and stopped in the entrance to the parking lot as a big old boat of a car backed out of a spot right by the door. He stayed well back, noting the low tuft of white hair that peeked over the top of the steering wheel, the jerking movement of the vehicle. As he waited he looked the situation over, the sight of Stephanie's car parked in the back row near the dumpster loosening the tightness he didn't realize was in his chest.

Once the senior citizen had thundered out of the lot, Ranger decided not to take the spot by the door, preferring to find a location where he could observe for a while. So he backed into one of the few remaining parking spots in the lot, right next to Stephanie's car in the last row, one spot closer to the dumpster.

The building had no apparent security at all, he noted, and the two fire escapes along the parking lot side would provide easy access into the units they serviced. He hoped Stephanie's apartment wasn't one of them.

He got out his phone and called the RangeMan control room.

"Yes, boss?" came Lester's voice. Even though Les ran the security system end of the business, he, Tank, and even Ranger himself still took their turns on the monitors. One of these days Ranger would have enough employees to free the management team of that responsibility, but not yet.

"I need a vehicle identification," Ranger told him. "Make, model and tag number for any personal vehicles of Joseph Morelli, Trenton PD."

"Just a sec, boss." The faint sound of typing click-clacked in his ear. Ranger had invested in state-of-the-art information services and had hired a real whiz to set up his computer system. Not only did RangeMan have access to everything legally available, but they could also with a few keystrokes hack into a number of data systems, including Motor Vehicles.

Lester's voice came back. "One vehicle registered to Morelli, Joseph A. of 387 Slater Street, Trenton. Black 2001 Dodge Dakota pickup, license WD 2759T."

"Thanks." Ranger disconnected and studied the cars in the lot. No black Dakota. He decided to take a closer look at the building and locate Stephanie's apartment for future reference.

The lobby was small and plain, with the back door opening onto the parking lot and the front door on the opposite side opening onto St. James Street. To the left was a bank of mailboxes. To the right were an elevator and a solid metal door, probably the stairs.

Ranger took the stairs to the second floor and looked out into the hallway. Six doors on each side, regular spacing indicating the apartments were all the same size, most likely identical mirror images. He walked down the hall to 215, Stephanie's door. Plain institutional green metal, just like the others. A locking doorknob and a deadbolt, both Yale.

Ranger stood outside the door and listened. Someone across the hall had a TV blaring out the news so loud he could almost make out the words of the announcer. When he leaned his ear against Stephanie's door he thought he could hear water running inside. The noticeable increase of his heart rate made him certain Stephanie was inside.

He knocked on the door and waited.

No response.

He knocked again, a little louder.

Nothing.

The lock pick in his wallet was calling to him, and without really thinking about it he got it out and picked the two locks, easing the deadbolt back.

Shit, he thought, am I really doing this? Breaking into Stephanie's apartment? Why?

To evaluate her security, he told himself as he turned the knob and opened the door a fraction. Now he could hear the water running from deep inside the apartment. The volume and pitch indicated Stephanie was taking a shower.

His cock leaped to attention as he entered the apartment, unable to suppress the thought of water flowing down over that milky white skin. Down, boy, he thought, you'll just be in and out in a matter of seconds. Just long enough to look the place over, check the window access, make sure Stephanie's safe here.

But of course she wasn't, he discovered as soon as he looked into her bedroom, ignoring the unmade bed and the clothes on the floor. Just what he'd been afraid of, the fire escape platform outside her window. All the windows were secured with the classic swivel locks, but the fire escape would provide easy access for anyone wanting to break in. Just break the window or use a glass cutter to make a hole, reach in, open the lock and you could be inside in seconds.

Shaking his head, he walked back into the short hallway and paused outside the bathroom door, both his hands going up to touch the door, leaning forward until his forehead kissed the wood. His whole body was throbbing and aching, the desire a physical thing taking possession of him, controlling him.

Just as his hand reached for the doorknob the sound of the shower changed pitch, as if it had been moved or the water turned down. Shit, he thought, his brain regaining control of his body. You can't just walk into her bathroom while she's showering. Get the hell out before you do something stupid.

He checked the living room window and then looked into the tiny kitchen. The large aquarium on the counter caught his eye and he studied it, seeing the wood shavings, the metal wheel and the furry rear end sticking out of a Campbell's tomato soup can. A pet rodent, he thought, wanting to smile. Only Stephanie.

No problems there. Except the lack of food, he thought as he opened the refrigerator door. Nothing but a few shriveled grapes, a half dozen olives floating in a jar, a box of hamster nuggets, something shriveled and fuzzy that might have once been a piece of fruit, and one bottle of beer. He looked in the cupboards. An empty peanut butter jar, an almost-empty coffee can and a few crackers in a baggie. No wonder she was so thin.

He took one last look around the apartment, memorizing the layout of the rooms before walking back out into the hallway. As he was about to use his pick to re-lock the door, he stopped, considering. Maybe he should stay and talk to Stephanie when she got out of the shower.

_oOo_

Stephanie was out of the Nova practically before it was stopped in her parking lot. She raced into the lobby and straight up the stairs, not wanting to wait for the ancient and slow elevator or to take the chance on getting stuck in it. She was panting and gasping and sighing with relief when she got to her bathroom.

Urgent needs taken care of, she decided she really needed a shower. Four hours in a car in ninety-five degree heat didn't leave you smelling like a rose.

She took her time, scrubbing and exfoliating and washing her hair, the lukewarm water cooling her overheated body. In her destitution she'd run out of shower gel, but after digging in the very back of the cupboard under the sink she'd come up with an ancient bottle of the mango she used to use years ago. It still smelled good, and the scent brought the memories back. Dickie hadn't liked the fruity odor, so she'd switched when she was with him.

The scent reminded her of the summer in Point Pleasant, of the nights spent with Carlos, first on the front porch and later in the king-size bed. Into her mind floated the memory of him inhaling her skin, telling her she smelled good enough to eat, his mouth on her, tasting every millimeter.

Shit, no matter how much she tried to keep him out of her mind he was always just below the surface waiting to pop up at the least little reminder. But now she was all tense and tingly, her nipples hard and her lower regions throbbing. She could almost feel his mouth on hers, his hands on her body, his cock entering her.

She was desperate for something to relieve the pressure. And she knew exactly what to do. She reached up and pulled the shower massager out of its clamp and sat down in the tub.

Twenty minutes later, wrapped in a towel with another around her head, she opened the bathroom door and walked out, right into a tall hard body. Squeaking, she jumped back, almost dropping her towel.

_TBC_


	87. Dusk and Summer 8

**Dusk and Summer 8**

Dammit, Ranger thought, what the hell is wrong with me? Why am I even here? Stephanie is engaged to another man, and I have no business being in her apartment.

He re-locked the door with his picks and strode down the stairs and out to the Turbo. Sliding into the driver's seat he closed the door and gripped the top of the steering wheel, resting his head on the backs of his hands. He had to stop this. It just wasn't meant to be, and the sooner he accepted that fact, the sooner he could get back to business, get back to his life.

The sound of a car engine coming into the lot made him look up, and yeah, there it was, the proof that he and Stephanie didn't belong together. A black 2001 Dodge Dakota, old and a bit battered but engine purring like an old tomcat. Ranger sat back, grateful for his tinted windows, and watched Joe Morelli swing into the parking spot by the door, get out of his truck juggling a pizza box and a six-pack of beer, and disappear into Stephanie's building.

Feeling a little sick to his stomach thinking about Morelli with Stephanie, Ranger revved up his engine and took off.

_oOo_

Stephanie gasped. The brown eyes looking into hers were dark and hot, and the bad-boy grin was filled with the promise of orgasms to come.

"Here, let me take that for you, Cupcake." Joseph Morelli reached out and slid two fingers down into Stephanie's cleavage, stroking up and down a couple times before gripping the towel and pulling.

"Don't call me Cupcake," Stephanie gritted, holding onto her towel for dear life, both arms wrapped across the front of her body in a protective gesture.

Joe's grin didn't change a bit as he released the towel. "That's okay," he said, "the pizza will get cold and the beer will get warm if we take the time to do what I have in mind before dinner. But later…" He gave his lips a lascivious lick.

"I'll be right out," Stephanie said, scuttling into her bedroom and slamming the door. Joe's laughter pealed down the hallway as he walked away toward the living room.

After Stephanie got dressed she joined Joe, who was sprawled on the living room couch already eating pizza and guzzling beer.

"So what was so urgent that you had to talk to me right away?" Joe asked, popping open a third beer and leaning back on the couch, stretching his arm across the back to play with Stephanie's curls.

"Mphh, nothing," Stephanie said through a last mouthful of pizza, and she leaned forward away from his touch to grab her beer.

"Must have been something for you to leave messages all over the place. That's why I came right over when I finished work." Joe leered at her. "Thought maybe you were hungry for some Italian sausage."

Stephanie was dressed in long navy shorts and a baggy pink t-shirt, chosen to be as unsexy as possible, though she knew nothing on God's green earth could inhibit Joe's sex drive. But this was going to be tough enough without him trying to seduce her in the middle of it.

"Joe," she said reaching out and taking his left hand in both of hers, looking down at the diamond glittering on her ring finger. "I think you're a great guy, and we've really had some good times since I moved back to Trenton."

God, this was hard, she thought, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "You're a good friend, and I really care about you a lot, but I don't think we should get married. Your mother pressured us into getting engaged. It wasn't a decision we made together, and I think it's wrong for both of us."

She let go of his hand and twisted the ring off her finger, placing it in his palm and closing his fist around it.

Joe grimaced and opened his palm to study the ring. "I guess you're right. It was all my mom's idea. But it made her happy, and I bet your parents were thrilled, too." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "And it was a free pass to sleep together as much as we wanted. Hell, I was ready to ask you to move in with me."

"Move in?" Stephanie was appalled. There was no way she would even consider moving in with Joe. She didn't even like spending a whole night with him.

"Yeah, I was just thinking that it would make financial sense. Since you lost your job and all, you could take care of the house, and it would be really nice to have a delicious, home-cooked dinner waiting when I got home every night."

"Home-cooked dinner?" Stephanie's voice went up an octave.

Joe grinned. "Yeah, I know you're not much of a cook yet, but you could learn. After all, you can't raise kids on Pino's and beer."

Stephanie clamped her hands on each side of her head, afraid her brain was going to burst into flames and send lava spewing out of her ears. "Kids?" she squeaked.

"But you're right," Joe said, looking at the ring again and then dropping it into his shirt pocket, "we should wait to get engaged until it's our decision. Then all that other stuff will follow."

Stephanie sighed in relief.

"Although I meant it about the moving in part," he added. "You should think about it. That way you wouldn't have to worry about paying rent or bills. You could maybe get a part-time job and keep things shipshape while I'm working."

Stephanie jumped to her feet and grabbed Joe's wrist with both hands, hauling him up. "Thanks for dinner, Joe, but I've got something I have to do tonight." She put her arm around his waist and dragged him toward the door. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

She slammed the door shut and leaned her back against it, hands splayed on either side of her, gasping for air. Omifreakingod, she thought, what the hell was up with Joe? He'd never exhibited the slightest sign of domesticity before and now he wanted her to play little Suzy homemaker? She must have cleaned his house too damn well on Saturday.

Tomorrow she'd have to figure out a way to get her key back from him.

Stephanie spent the evening on the couch, first re-trying the people on her list for Mickey Lauder that she hadn't reached earlier and then watching the end of the baseball game on TV. At eleven she turned off her air conditioner and opened the windows to let in the cooler night breeze. But as tired as she was, she couldn't sleep. She lay in bed, replaying the events of the past few days over and over again in her head.

Ranger kept creeping into her thoughts. She wanted to know more about him. Was Carlos really gone? It gave her an empty place right in the center of her chest to think how much he'd changed, what horrible experiences he must have had to make him so cold, so unfeeling. Stupid to care so much, she knew that in her head. But her heart wanted him to be like before.

She didn't even know him anymore and most likely never would. Oh, well, once she got more comfortable with bounty hunting, she probably wouldn't ever see him.

She marveled at the physical shock of recognition when Ranger first put his hand on her arm at the café, as if her body had been waiting these whole ten years for his touch. It roared through her like a firestorm, all flames and rushing wind.

She was damp just thinking about him, and in spite of the session with her shower massager she ached with desire. Chemistry, she told herself. He'd always oozed pheromones, and probably every woman he touched felt the exact same way.

Why couldn't she just get her mind off him and sleep? Tomorrow was going to be a tough day searching for Mickey Lauder, and she needed her rest.

The muted whistle of a night bird broke through her thoughts, and the sound, so bittersweet, skimmed over her skin and covered it with goosebumps. She shivered and clutched the sheet tight around her.

There was something strange about the way Ranger wouldn't talk about Julio yesterday. She couldn't pinpoint it, and she hadn't pushed. But it left her with a little hinky feeling, her Spidey sense telling her something was wrong.

A prickling engulfed her, and a second later the birdcall sounded again. As in a dream, Stephanie rose from the bed and drifted to her open window, parting the curtains.

_oOo_

Ranger couldn't sleep. _Again._

He didn't toss and turn, though, trained not to move at all, awake or asleep. But his mind traveled its tortuous pathways, winding through all his concerns but always returning to immerse him in the crystal blue sea of Stephanie's eyes.

Forget her, he told himself. She's engaged, and you're not relationship material.

He didn't understand the power that Stephanie had always held over him. He had to take care not to allow her to derail him from his business. He should stay away from her. But he couldn't stop thinking about her.

What was it about Stephanie that attracted him so much, drew him to her? It was just chemistry, he told himself, some pheromone she emitted.

He rose from the bed in the basement bunker at Cameron Street. Moving like a spirit, silent and invisible, he floated out to the parking lot and got in the Turbo.

He drove through the dark, empty streets to the square redbrick apartment building, just six minutes at this hour, and backed into a parking place in the corner. His eyes were drawn inexorably to an open second-story window on the fire escape landing. There was no sign of Morelli's truck in the lot and the flutter of his flesh promised that Stephanie was there behind the curtains that sailed ghostlike in the night air.

Transfixed, Ranger opened his car window and gave a low whistle, a nocturnal bird calling its mate. The humming of his blood told him Stephanie was awake, listening. He was without thought, acting under a compulsion so strong that he couldn't have resisted if his life depended on it. He whistled again and waited, patient, certain.

And two pale hands parted the curtains.

Framed by the window was a white body with a cloud of dark hair. Ranger opened his car door and stepped out.

_TBC_


	88. Dusk and Summer 9

_A/N: A bit angsty but short and sweet. Lee Anne, this one's for you!  
_

**Dusk and Summer 9**

Stephanie looked out the window, her vision sweeping the parking lot, seeking. A movement caught her eye, and a dark silhouette stepped out of a car parked in the back corner.

In a trance, she turned and walked out her bedroom door, through the living room to the foyer. The deadbolt clicked as she turned it, and the security chain rattled as it dropped down along the doorframe.

Slipping out the apartment door, she pulled it shut behind her without a thought of locking it. Floating down the stairs and out the door, she met him halfway across the parking lot and his arms around her both relieved and intensified the passion burning in her belly.

"Babe," he whispered. And then his mouth covered hers, and the fire surrounded them.

"Am I dreaming?" Stephanie murmured, dizzy with need, her lips scorched from the heat of his.

"It's not a dream," Ranger answered, his voice rusty, his nose buried in her neck inhaling the scent of mango, his hardness pressing against her lower belly.

"Come inside," she said, taking his hand and leading him into the building, up the stairs. Both of them were in their nightclothes, Ranger wearing a black t-shirt and boxers, Stephanie in a pale blue spaghetti-strap tank and white lace panties.

She led him to the couch and turned the lamp in the corner on low. "Do you want coffee?" she asked.

He shook his head, expression unreadable, and sat down, pulling her down next to him so they were pressed together from knee to hip, his arm around her holding her tight to his side, her arm resting against his chest. She put her head on his shoulder and relaxed, eyes closed.

Long moments passed, the silence comfortable. And then Stephanie spoke.

"Tell me about Julio."

After a pause his chest rumbled under her cheek. "He was so happy every time he got a letter from you."

Stephanie's eyes stung with tears and she squeezed them tight, not wanting to cry in front of Ranger. But the effort roughened her voice as she said, "I wasn't nice to him the last time I saw him."

"But you made up for it. He couldn't wait to show me that letter, the way you signed it with a little heart above your name."

After another minute of silence Stephanie said, "I should have written to him more often."

"He loved you."

"I loved him, too."

Another pause, and then Ranger's muscles tensed and his voice came out low and flat. "He was killed two years ago in an ambush."

"Oh, Carlos, I'm so sorry." Stephanie's tears came and she stretched her arm across his chest as far around him as she could reach, feeling his hurt, trying to absorb it, draw the pain from him the way you lance a boil so it can heal. Her heart ached, as much for the pain she knew Ranger must be feeling as for her own loss.

His other arm went around her and they sat there in silence, wrapped in each other's arms. After a few minutes Ranger relaxed.

"That summer in Point Pleasant," Stephanie said after a while, sniffling, "all he wanted in life was to become a Ranger. I'm glad he got his dream."

More silence.

"What about Les?" Stephanie asked. "Was he still on the same squad?"

"He was wounded, but he's okay."

"Do you ever see him?"

His cheek was resting on the top of her head and she could feel the muscles move as a smile formed on his face. "Every day. He works for me."

She smiled, too, knowing he could feel it against his shoulder.

After a few minutes more she asked, "What about Tank?"

"He's fine. He works for me, too."

After another period of comfortable silence Stephanie lifted her head from Ranger's shoulder to look at his face. The shadows cast by the dim lamplight turned his eyes to black holes and painted cruel slashes across his carved cheekbones, the scar on his jawline standing out in sharp relief. But in spite of his lack of expression, she couldn't suppress a tremor of desire, remembering the man she loved and searching for him inside this stranger.

"Are you cold?" Ranger asked, releasing her and yanking off his t-shirt with one hand at the back of the neck. "Here, put this on."

As he turned toward her the light changed on his face and she saw his eyes, dark chocolate, expressionless still, but she was certain there were emotions hidden deep behind them.

And when he helped her slip the shirt over her head, every sense was filled to overflowing with him. The distinctive scent that mingled soap and spice and his maleness in an irresistible blend; the softness of the cotton tee caressing her skin; the taste of his kiss still on her lips; and the indescribable austere beauty that was his face—the combination sent her system careening out of control, frightening her with emotions that threatened to overflow.

The man she loved was still there, her body told her. Whether he could care about anything, care about her, she had yet to discern.

And then her gaze fell to the ridges and valleys of his well muscled torso and she saw the scars.

"Oh, God," she said, "what happened to you?"

"De nada. It's nothing."

But Stephanie couldn't take her eyes off the beautiful body, now marred with the wounds of his service. Her fingers traced them: a puckered crater on his left shoulder that could only have been caused by a bullet; a long, wide gash across the ribs delineated by pale, thick scar tissue; a radiating pattern on the right side of his lower abdomen crosshatched with uneven stitch marks, extending up almost to his pec and down below the waistband of his boxers.

As she leaned forward the lamplight fell across his legs, and the sight of his right thigh made her gasp. His quadriceps muscle was pitted and gouged and maimed, disfigured with grotesque scars, colors ranging from purple to red to white.

"Oh, no," she whispered, her hand covering the scars, the tears escaping and flowing free down her face. "Oh, Carlos."

He pulled her against his chest. "It's nothing," he repeated.

She relaxed back against him, her tears dripping down his chest, her cheek resting on the smooth, warm skin in the concave dip between his shoulder and his pectoral muscle and her arm draped around his waist. Her mind stopped, her tears dried, and she allowed herself to drift in the sensation of security that was her instinctive impression of Ranger, in spite of the appearance of danger. He felt safe, like he would protect her.

"Don't go to sleep." Ranger's deep gentle voice brought her out of her trance. "I think it's time for me to go home."

They walked hand in hand to the door, both silent, immersed in their own thoughts.

He reached out to cup Stephanie's chin, his very faint smile evoking her own evanescent one in response.

"Thank you for telling me about Julio," she whispered, sobering. "And I'm so sorry."

She didn't think his head moved, but somehow he nodded in acknowledgment. "Sweet dreams, Babe."

"Wait. Let me give you back your shirt." She grabbed the hem to pull it off.

He stopped her with a hand on her wrist. "Keep it. It looks good on you."

He gently brushed his lips over hers, soft and sweet, and held her eyes until the door closed between them.

_TBC_


	89. Dusk and Summer 10

**Dusk and Summer 10**

_The next morning_

Ranger awoke at five-thirty Wednesday morning as usual. Rather than going to Haywood and then running, he did five miles and returned to Cameron Street to shower. He wanted to make a stop on his way to the office.

Once dressed in the usual black cargoes and t-shirt he got into the Porsche. His other cars were in the underground garage at Haywood.

Before driving out of the lot on Cameron he inserted his Bluetooth earpiece and speed dialed the RangeMan control room.

"Yeah, boss?" It was Bobby Brown, finishing the night shift on monitors. As the newest employee, he was stuck with the worst duty, nights and weekends. But business was good, and Ranger had told Tank yesterday to look for a couple more guys.

"When Tank and Les get there tell them that the morning meeting will be at eight-thirty."

"Yes, sir."

Half an hour later Ranger picked the locks to Stephanie's apartment, used a small tool to ease off the security chain and carried in two grocery bags. He peeked into her bedroom and it was an effort to hold back a smile. She was flat on her face, head turned away from him, hair wild on the pillow, sheet covering her legs, a strip of skin showing along her lower back where the tank top had ridden up. It reminded him of how much she loved her sleep, how she could sleep through almost anything. Except the touch of his lips on her body, his hands exploring her.

The memory brought his dick to attention and he silently backed away, going to the kitchen to put the food away. Milk, eggs, cheese, butter, orange juice, Cheerios, coffee, whole-wheat bread, peanut butter, sliced turkey, grapes, a couple apples, a bag of baby carrots. And a jar of green olives. He remembered Stephanie's fondness for peanut butter and olive sandwiches. And he'd even gone against his instincts and bought whole milk rather than the nonfat he preferred for himself. She was too thin and could use a few extra calories.

He opened the bag of baby carrots and dropped one into the glass tank containing the rodent, watching, amused, as a little brown furball came scurrying out of the soup can. He could see now it was a hamster, and the creature looked at him with bright beady black eyes, grabbed the carrot and hustled back into its can, little rear end quivering with excitement over the breakfast.

It was past seven-thirty and Ranger was torn. He wanted to stay, make a pot of coffee, see Stephanie for a few minutes before his work day started. But she was engaged. He had to keep reminding himself. It would be best if he just went straight to the office.

As he turned to leave he heard the creaking of springs and froze. He'd been as quiet as possible putting the food away, but not a hundred percent silent. His body, already vibrating just from being in Stephanie's apartment, ramped up a notch. She was coming. He could feel her.

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

_oOo_

Stephanie awoke thinking about Ranger. She'd called him Carlos, she realized, but when he was telling her about Julio he'd seemed more like the Carlos of ten years ago, the man she loved.

She loved him.

There was no doubt in her mind. Last night had been the proof. He'd changed, yes, and she had too. Ten years apart was a long time, a third of their lives. And yet when his arms surrounded her, when his lips touched hers, it was as if mere seconds had elapsed, just a little blip in time.

And she was sure he felt it, too.

Her hands were shaking a little, she realized, and a buzz of desire nestled low in her belly. She felt like he was nearby, here, and she wondered if she was going crazy, if it was just the remnants of a dream.

She got up and walked out into the little hallway, the thrumming in her loins getting stronger. Without conscious thought she followed her instincts to the doorway of the kitchen.

She couldn't stop the smile that lit her face when she saw Ranger standing there, the corners of his lips turned up just a fraction and warmth in his eyes. No blank face this morning.

"Babe," he said, and her heart did a little flip flop.

"Batman," she answered.

They stared at each other for a moment and then Ranger's eyes dragged down over her body and Stephanie realized she was barely decent in her tank top and panties. Last night in the dark it hadn't seemed to matter, but in the bright light of morning she blushed.

"Just let me get something on," she said, "and I'll make some coffee."

"I'll make it," he said and reached for the coffee pot as she hustled to the bathroom.

Five minutes later, teeth brushed, hair in a ponytail, dressed in baggy blue plaid boxers and Ranger's black t-shirt, Stephanie came back to the kitchen to the smell of coffee brewing and the sight of Ranger at the stove scrambling eggs. He looked so at home, so right in the domestic setting that she couldn't stop herself from running a hand up his arm to his shoulder. She stood on tiptoe to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Where did the eggs come from?" she asked, "and the bread?" She opened the refrigerator door. "And all this other stuff?"

Ranger made a tiny movement of one shoulder, almost a shrug.

Stephanie grinned. "Must have been the food fairy."

Ranger pinned Stephanie with his eyes, frowning, but one corner of his mouth twitched. "Food fairy?"

Her eyes sparkled like the sun shimmering on the Caribbean. "Yeah, you know, big guy dressed in black? Gun on his hip?"

"I prefer the term food soldier," he said, turning off the stove and taking a couple of plates from the cupboard. At that exact moment two pieces of toast popped up from the toaster. Perfect timing, another thing that hadn't changed, Stephanie thought, remembering breakfasts together in Point Pleasant, trying to keep her mind from dwelling on his perfect timing in bed.

They sat across from each other at her small dining table, eating in silence. When they were finished, Stephanie brought the coffee pot out to refill their cups, adding milk and sugar to hers.

"What are your plans for today?" Ranger asked.

"I'm going to keep after Mickey Lauder," Stephanie said, big blue eyes looking at him over the rim of her coffee cup. "I made a lot of phone calls yesterday, and I must have hit a nerve, someone who knew where he was. I bet whoever it was told him and that's why he came after me in his parking lot. I'll call everyone again and see if I can figure out who's in touch with him."

"Connie has some good search programs at the bonds office. Has she run Lauder through?"

Stephanie tilted her head. "I don't think so. Do you think that will help me find him?"

"It might. And if Connie's searches don't turn up anything, give me a call. I might be able to dig even deeper."

Ranger drained his cup and rose. "Gotta get to the office. Thanks for breakfast."

Stephanie hopped up to walk him to the door. "Thanks for being the food soldier."

He hooked an arm around her neck and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "De nada, Babe." And he was gone.

_oOo_

"Okay, boss, who is she?" Lester asked. He and Tank were waiting at the conference table when Ranger walked in at eight-forty.

"Man, she must be one hell of a lay," Tank put in.

Ranger gave them his coldest look, his blankest face.

Lester wasn't intimidated. "Do you realize that except for when you're out of town this is the first time in the whole past year that you haven't been in your office by seven, weekends included?"

"Known you for ten years, boss, and you've never, ever been late for a meeting before, or anything else, for that matter." Tank shook his head.

"If you two hens are through gossiping and wasting time, I'd like to discuss the Melandria account." Ranger's voice was harsh, but his heart was warm, remembering the enthusiasm that Stephanie showed when she dug into her breakfast. His mood nosedived as he wondered if she'd be having dinner with Morelli again.

With a scowl on his face he turned his mind to the business at hand.

_TBC_


	90. Dusk and Summer 11

_Warning: Major cliffie!_

**Dusk and Summer 11**

"Please give me a call if you think of anything else." Stephanie was certain that someone she'd either called or left a message for yesterday must be in touch with Mickey Lauder, so she'd called them all again. By late morning she was through the list and didn't have any more sense of who it might be than before.

So she called Connie at the bonds office and asked if she could run Lauder through the search programs.

"Sure thing," said Connie, cheery because Vinnie was out of the office. "Did Ranger help you get a gun?"

"Yeah," Stephanie answered, "and he took me to the shooting range and taught me how to use it. And he loaned me a stun gun, too."

The clicking of Connie's keyboard accompanied her voice. "Okay, I'm starting the searches now. Stop by in about an hour and I should have some results for you."

Stephanie decided to go knock on some doors. It was likely some of Lauder's contacts saw her name on caller ID and didn't answer their phones. So she dressed in her usual shorts and tank top and sandals and cranked up the crappy Nova, coughing as the oily exhaust billowed in her open window when she backed out of her parking spot. Once she got going down Hamilton Avenue toward the Burg the breeze cleared out the fumes and helped cool down the oven-like interior of the car.

Six hours later Stephanie let herself into her apartment and switched on the air conditioner. What a wasted day. She'd knocked on doors and talked to people, gotten the search information from Connie and knocked on more doors. It was mid-nineties again and she was limp as a rag doll. She'd missed lunch, but the heat made her feel too sick to eat.

A shower ought to make her feel better, she decided, so she cooled her overheated body under tepid water, which infused her with just enough energy to wash her hair and shave her legs.

Afterward she pulled on Ranger's black t-shirt, burying her face in it to inhale his scent, and flopped onto the bed in her thinking position, flat on her back, wet hair still wrapped in a towel. She knew she could locate Lauder if she just thought about it hard enough. She had good instincts when it came to people, and she was about ninety-nine percent positive nobody she'd talked with yesterday or today was hiding any information. It had to be one of the people she hadn't actually talked to, just left a message.

A couple hours later her phone awakened her, and she fumbled for it in the dimness of the fading daylight, groggy with sleep, hoping it would be someone calling back with information about Lauder.

"Hello," she mumbled, unable to focus on the readout to see who was calling.

"Did I wake you?"

The deep voice sent a thrill into her ear that rang all the way to her toes with major warmth in between.

"No," she lied, switching on the bedside lamp. "I was just thinking, trying to figure out who knows where Lauder is."

"Uh huh." There was no expression at all in Ranger's voice, but Stephanie could still read it. He didn't believe her.

There was a pause while she sat up on the edge of the bed.

When the silence dragged on she asked, "So was there something special you wanted?"

"Just wondering if you've had dinner yet."

"No."

"Do you have any plans?"

"No."

"I was thinking about going to Rossini's. Come with me?"

"Sounds great. Where are you? Do you want to meet there?"

"Look out the window, Babe."

Stephanie got up and parted her curtains and the sight of Ranger standing beside his Porsche in her parking lot sang into her soul, sending a flush of heat through her body.

"It'll take me a while to get ready," she told him. "Come on up."

She was waiting, door open, when Ranger came out of the stairwell.

He looked delicious in black slacks and a black dress shirt open at the neck, cuffs rolled up to reveal muscled brown forearms. His hair was loose rather than tied back as it had been the other times she'd seen him, and Stephanie couldn't stop herself from combing her fingers through its thick silk as she kissed him on the cheek. Her hands slid down his shoulders to his chest, remembering the scars, the wondrous body under the thin fabric, and it took her whole strength not to drag him into the bedroom and tear his clothes off.

She, on the other hand, was a mess, she thought, towel on her head, his t-shirt covering her nearly to her knees. "Can I get you a beer or something to drink?" she asked, covering her raging lust with Burg manners.

His eyes dilated dark as he looked her over, and her face flushed with the thrill of his gaze.

"I'll get it, Babe," he answered. "You get dressed."

Stephanie hurried through her preparations, pleased that her hair was almost dry and hanging in loose waves from being wrapped in the towel. She slipped on a blue lace bra and thong and looked in her closet to see what she had that was suitable for Rossini's. A sleeveless dress in a muted blue and green flowered print and natural beige strappy sandals with three-inch heels, just right, she thought, and she slipped on the sapphire heart, tucking the long cord into the neck of the dress. She grabbed a lightweight, three-quarter sleeve ivory sweater in case she needed it to ward off the chill of the air conditioning in Rossini's and went out to Ranger.

_oOo_

At seven p.m. Ranger finished reading the last piece of paper in the huge pile on his desk and decided to call it a day. Lester and the new guy, Bobby, had picked up the high bond skip they'd been looking for all week, and all was quiet.

He was hungry, and his mind went straight to Stephanie, wondering if she'd had dinner yet, if she was eating pizza with Morelli again or over at his house. His jaw clenched as the unbidden image of Stephanie writhing naked beneath Morelli swam into his brain like a leech sucking away his lifeblood.

He forced the thought out of mind, but found himself in the Porsche driving toward her apartment. He'd just see if she was there.

Her car was in the lot, her apartment dark, although most of the other windows had lights showing, the low rays of the sun blocked by the trees and houses that surrounded the west side of the building. She was probably out with Morelli, he told himself, but then his phone was in his hand and he was pressing number one on his speed dial.

Half an hour later the sight of Stephanie in the cool pale dress had him on his feet, his dick throbbing and twitching. She was bewitching, captivating. He wanted to walk her right back into that bedroom and…

"You're beautiful, Babe," he said, and the blush that pinked her cheeks made her even more alluring.

The red sky of dusk illuminated her with a radiant glow as they walked to the car, and Ranger took her arm as he helped her in, reaching to fasten her seatbelt just so that his hands could brush across her.

Stephanie knew several people in Rossini's and introduced him as they waited to be seated. A few minutes after they sat down her phone rang and she looked at the display and pressed the buttons for silent mode.

"My mother," she explained. "I'll call her later."

Ranger couldn't take his eyes off her as she reveled in the most unhealthy dinner he could imagine, sausage and pasta in Alfredo sauce. He picked at his grilled fish and steamed vegetables and imagined himself as her dinner, her mouth devouring him the way she was devouring the pasta, licking her lips with pleasure.

As they ate, periods of comfortable silence alternated with quiet conversation. Ranger's heart ached when Stephanie told him how her marriage to Dickie had ended, but he made her smile with his account of how he met Connie and Vinnie and began building his business with the bounty from that first skip. By the time dinner was over each of them knew all that was important about the other. It wasn't so much what they said; it was more the long looks, the unspoken communication, just the fact of them being there together.

"Don't you want to come up for coffee?" Stephanie asked as Ranger pulled up to the door of her building instead of parking in the lot.

He was burning to go up, but he didn't trust himself. She hadn't worn her engagement ring out to dinner, but nevertheless, she belonged to another man. Even though he was quite certain she wanted him as much as he wanted her, there was no way he was going to put her in the uncomfortable position of choosing between refusing him and cheating on her fiancé. She was too good for that.

So he just shook his head. "Not tonight. But thanks for keeping me company," and gave a quick brush of his lips over hers.

But she surprised him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back, hard, her lips parting in invitation to his tongue.

Gasping for air, her chest heaving, Stephanie said, "Are you sure?"

All he could do was nod and watch the halo of light that surrounded her as she skipped through the entrance, turning to wave and call a final thank-you for the dinner as he pulled away.

_oOo_

Stephanie rode up to the second floor in the elevator, drooping with disappointment. It had been a perfect evening, and she hadn't wanted it to end. And Ranger had been a perfect gentleman, dammit all. She wanted him so much, and she was almost positive he wanted her, too.

But maybe his life was too full for her. Maybe he was just being nice, catching up with an old friend. Maybe there was someone else. The thought cut her like a knife.

She let herself into her apartment and kicked off her sandals as she locked the door behind her, putting on the security chain. It wasn't ten yet, so maybe she'd make a few more phone calls before she got ready for bed.

She had her head down groping in her bag for her phone as she walked through the doorway of her living room and didn't see the figure standing there in the shadows, in the corner opposite the door, away from the dim lamp she'd left lit. But all the hair on the back of her neck stood up and she gasped when she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned toward the motion just in time to see the glint of the lamplight off the steel blue of the gun barrel, the flash from the muzzle…

And then she was lying on the floor, the weight of a thousand elephants on her chest.

**TBC in Part 10—Heaven Here**


	91. Heaven Here 1

**Part 10—Heaven Here**

_So let it last all night  
Let the fire surround us  
Let it all cave in, let it all burn wild  
We are leaving it all behind  
Heaven is here_

_—Chris Carrabba_

_oOo_

_Warning: The "c" word and a bit of angst._

1

"Take that, you fucking cunt."

Blackness was creeping in from the edges of her vision, and it took all Stephanie's concentration to force the darkness to recede, to look up and see the face of Mickey Lauder looming miles above her.

"Mickey," she croaked and then coughed, choking on the metallic taste of blood. She was lying half on her side in the little foyer. The force of the bullet to her chest had pushed her backward out the living room archway and landed her in the hall.

"I'm not going to jail, bitch," Lauder snarled, "and anyone that tries to put me there dies. That's why I killed Hennessey. He was going to turn me in, make a deal for himself. Nobody fucks with me."

"Call…" Stephanie gasped, unable to breathe. Her lungs were on fire. "9-1…" She coughed again and turned her head so the blood could run out the side of her mouth.

"You're going to die, bitch, and I'm going to dance around your dead body." Though she could barely see through the long dark tunnel obscuring her vision, Stephanie would have sworn he was smiling as he circled her.

Her right hand was still in her purse, half underneath her. She couldn't find her gun, and if she didn't she was going to die right here on the floor of her apartment.

Lauder raised his weapon and pointed it at her prone body. "Get ready to meet your maker, cunt."

Stephanie's fingers closed over a small flat box. It fit in her hand like it was designed just for her, and she flicked the power button and used every bit of strength she could summon to pull it out, press it against Lauder's bare leg above the top of his white athletic sock. Her thumb landed on the stun button and the gun dropped from Lauder's hand, hitting the floor with a clatter. Without a sound he crumpled backward into the kitchen, his head hitting the floor with a ringing thud.

Stephanie dropped the stun gun and managed to get her hand back into her purse. The blackness was advancing again. Don't give in, she told herself. If you pass out Mickey Lauder will wake up and walk away, and they'll find your body tomorrow or the next day, whenever someone is worried enough about you to come check.

Her hand groped, her fingers dug.

Stay awake, she told herself. If she didn't, she'd never have a chance to tell Ranger how she felt, to try to make up for all those years apart. And he needed her. Without her he was hard and cold and unfeeling. She could make him smile, make him happy for the rest of his life, she was certain of it. She loved him.

And her hand closed over the phone. She fumbled it out, brought it close to her face, peered at the buttons, tiny and far away like she was looking at them through the wrong end of a telescope.

Her thumb pressed down on the number one and held.

She couldn't get the phone to her ear. It dropped from numb fingers and thumped on the hardwood floor. Through the roaring in her ears she thought, she hoped she heard his voice, "Babe?" It might have been him, or it might have been heaven calling her, taking her home.

She coughed again, fighting to maintain consciousness, trying to speak. Let the blood run out of her mouth. Battled the blackness back. Used her last iota of oxygen to whisper, "Ranger."

And the blackness won.

_oOo_

Ranger pulled out of Stephanie's parking lot onto Dunworth and took the right onto St. James, intending to go home to Cameron Street. His laptop was in the backseat and he wanted to refine the Canton proposal for the meeting on Friday before he went to bed.

But as he was waiting for the traffic light at Hamilton Avenue a serious sense of unease compressed his chest, a heavy, unsettled feeling. Something was wrong.

Eight years in the military, most of it as a Special Forces officer, had trained him to go with his instincts, and as the light changed he u-turned and shot back up St. James, his tires squealing as he skidded around the corner onto Dunworth and into Stephanie's parking lot.

Just as he got out of the car, watching Stephanie's bedroom window, seeing nothing wrong but unable to shake that sense of imminent danger, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out on his way across the parking lot and glanced at the display. Stephanie. Good. She must be okay if she was calling him.

"Babe?" he said as he walked into the apartment building toward the stairwell, the smile showing in his voice if not on his face.

A cough. The hiss of air, the rattle of fluid. The whisper, "Ranger." And nothing.

Ranger raced up the steps three at a time, burst out of the stairwell and pounded his fist on Stephanie's apartment door, trying the door handle, calling "Babe."

Next door a stout white-haired woman in a pink flowered housecoat was standing halfway out in the hall, looking toward him. "Was that a gunshot?" she asked.

Ranger took a step back and raised his boot, using all his considerable leg strength to smash the door next to the lock. The doorframe splintered, the chain tore out of the wall and the door crashed open.

It was a fraction of a second, an eternity, before he could process what he was seeing, his heart clenching like a fist in his chest. Stephanie lay on the floor in front of him, one whole side of her off-white sweater soaked red, a dark pool of blood spreading on the floor beneath her, a trail of blood running out the corner of her mouth down her colorless cheek. A gun lay on the floor near the kitchen door, and a body ending in a dirty pair of white running shoes lay half in, half out of the kitchen.

"Call 911," he shouted at the woman. "Ambulance. Hurry."

The woman just stared at him as he went through the door. Too slow. His own phone was still in his hand and he punched in the 911 himself.

"911. What is your emergency?" The female voice sounded bored.

"I need an ambulance right away at 168 St. James, apartment 215. Gunshot wound."

"Who am I speaking with?"

"Hurry."

By this time Ranger was outside the bathroom grabbing towels from the tiny linen closet in the hallway. He didn't disconnect the phone, just shoved it into his shirt pocket as he knelt down beside Stephanie.

He raised the left side of her sweater and saw where the bullet had entered, a dark hole above her left breast ringed by blood. But not that much blood. With great care he lifted her shoulder from the floor and saw the mangled mess of blood and tissue and torn sweater where the bullet had burst out of her back near the shoulder. He could hear the sucking hiss of air coming from the wound and in the second it took him to evaluate it a frothy red foam began to build. He placed one folded towel over it, sliding his arm underneath her to keep pressure with his hand while cradling her upper body and pressing the other towel over the entry wound.

Adrenaline was coursing through him, making his mind race, keeping his vision clear as he looked Stephanie over, assessed her condition. She was still bleeding, good. That meant her heart was still pumping. The frothy foam meant the bullet had gone through her lung but she was still trying to breathe. He kept her head tilted to the side so that any blood in her throat would run out of her mouth.

"Hang on, Babe," he whispered. Holding her close, he watched the faint rise and fall of her chest and prayed.

It seemed like an eternity but was probably less than ten minutes before the paramedics arrived.

"Bullet wound," he told them as they walked in and set their large cases down. "Entry in the upper chest left side, large exit wound in the back."

"Okay, sir, we've got her," said the first EMT, kneeling down next to Stephanie. "Please step back, but remain here. We'll need some information from you."

"What about this guy?" the other paramedic asked, seeing the feet sticking out of the kitchen door. Ranger stood and said, "That's the shooter." He gestured at the stun gun on the floor. "Looks like she stunned him before she lost consciousness. He can wait."

As Ranger looked at him, Lauder's eyes fluttered open and he groaned. Without even a second's pause Ranger picked up the stun gun from the floor and gave him another jolt.

Both paramedics were working on Stephanie, putting a pressure bandage on the wound, hooking up oxygen, starting an IV, so Ranger dug into Stephanie's bag for her cuffs and fastened Lauder's hands behind his back. Lauder's gun, a Sig Sauer P226, was in the hallway where it had dropped from his hand, and Ranger left it where it lay. Even if Lauder woke up, he wouldn't be able to reach it.

By this time the cops were there, too, crowding into the doorway. Ranger recognized Carl Costanza, a patrol office he'd dealt with several times before, and gestured him in. Carl edged around the paramedics and looked down.

"Oh, God, it's Stephanie," he said. "What happened?"

Ranger kept his explanation short, watching as one of the paramedics wheeled a gurney in and they prepared to load Stephanie onto it. "She just started bounty hunting for Vinnie. Looking for Mickey Lauder." Ranger waved at the feet protruding from the kitchen. "He was waiting for her when she came home, shot her. She stunned him before she lost consciousness." He gestured again at the gun in the hall. "That's probably his weapon. I didn't touch it. You should bag it as evidence. Clear case of attempted murder. And he's FTA, so make sure a body receipt gets issued to Stephanie when you take him in."

Costanza looked in at Lauder. "You cuff him?"

Ranger nodded. They had Stephanie on the stretcher and were starting to wheel her out. He followed, telling Costanza, "I'm going to the hospital with her. The detectives can catch me there if they want a statement."

Ranger crowded into the elevator with the paramedics and took Stephanie's hand.

_TBC_


	92. Heaven Here 2

**Heaven Here 2**

"Yeah, boss?" Tank's deep rumble came through the cell phone into Ranger's ear.

"Emergency. I need you to get Silvio there right away."

"What do you need?"

"Medical power of attorney naming me faxed over to St. Francis right away along with a copy of a health insurance card. Also, an employee added to RangeMan's records retroactive two, no make it three months. I need Silvio to get into the insurance company system and add the name to our list of insured as of July one. Searches are already done, on my computer desktop in a folder labeled Plum. The signature is on the driver's license in the file. Silvio will know what to do."

"Okay. What name do you want on the documents?"

"Stephanie Plum."

For the first time Tank's voice showed some urgency. "What happened to her?"

"Shot in the chest."

"On it, boss."

Ranger paced the small private waiting room, feeling an uncharacteristic lack of control. They'd taken Stephanie right into surgery as soon as she arrived at the hospital. He'd given her name and address and told them he was family.

An hour later he was still pacing when the door opened and Tank and Lester walked in.

"Paperwork's all taken care of. Any word?" Tank asked.

Ranger shook his head.

"What happened?" Lester's face, while serious, also had a knowing look, as if some great mystery was solved.

Ranger gave them the same succinct story he'd given Carl Costanza and the detective that came in to interview him. There were a dozen cops milling around the hospital. Another ambulance had brought Mickey Lauder in because according to the detective Lauder had a slight concussion from hitting his head on the floor when Stephanie stunned him. He was being held overnight under guard and in the morning barring complications would go to jail to await trial for the Hennessey murder. Most likely he'd be charged with attempted murder as well for Stephanie. The evidence was clear, and if she testified it would be a slam dunk.

Tank and Lester sat down, but Ranger was still unable to settle. He stood at the window and stared down at the parking lot, halos around the streetlights from the late-night humidity. He couldn't stop blaming himself. He should have walked her up to her apartment, checked it for her.

Hell, he should have stayed with her all week, helped her look for Lauder, taken Lauder down himself. If he'd been with her yesterday afternoon when Lauder handcuffed her to the steering wheel, Lauder would have been in custody and this never would have happened.

But one of the things he most admired about Stephanie was her independence. She wouldn't have let him do the job for her. She wasn't a clinger or a whiner. She could have been wallowing in the misery of unemployment, living off Morelli or her parents, but she wouldn't do that. She was a fighter, determined to take care of herself. That's why she was driving around in that piece of shit car, why she'd convinced Vinnie to hire her, to give her Lauder. His heart ached at her courage, her fortitude, her perseverance.

She's not going to die, he told himself over and over again. She was stable when they took her into surgery. But deep in his heart the fear was like ice, chilling the blood in his veins, threatening to freeze him for good. Losing Julio was the worst thing that ever happened to him, the worst thing he thought was possible. Until now. If he lost Stephanie, too, he wasn't sure if he'd survive. He loved her, had never stopped loving her.

The door opened and Ranger spun to face it, his heart hammering in his chest. But it wasn't the doctor, not the nurse. It was Joe Morelli.

Morelli's face was cop flat, and Ranger met it with his own soldier blankness.

"Tell me what happened," Morelli commanded, assertive enough to put Ranger's back up.

"I already gave my statement to Becker." Ranger turned his back and stared out the window again.

"So give it again. I have questions."

Tank and Lester both rose from their chairs and walked over to the window, bookending their boss but facing Morelli, arms crossed, faces wooden.

"Not your case," Ranger said without turning.

"But my business," Morelli said. "My girlfriend."

Ranger didn't answer.

Morelli's voice came again, no longer impassive. "Please."

Ranger turned to face him. Girlfriend, he thought. Kind of a high-school term. Not fiancé. Not woman. Girlfriend.

But he felt a smidge of empathy. "What do you want to know?"

Morelli asked a lot more questions than Walt Becker had for the official statement. Ranger soon realized that Morelli hadn't known that Stephanie took the bounty hunting job, that she'd been after Lauder. He had no idea she was almost penniless, that she couldn't even afford to buy food. He wondered what the two of them talked about, _if _they talked.

When Morelli ran out of questions he sank down into a chair, head in his hands. Ranger turned toward the window again.

Another hour passed in silence. And then the door opened again.

A surgeon in green scrubs and cap, surgical mask pulled down around his neck, walked in the room. "Mr. Manoso?" he asked.

Ranger stepped forward, Morelli next to him. "Ms. Plum is out of surgery, breathing on her own and in guarded condition. She was a very lucky young woman. The bullet passed through the top of her left lung and was diverted by a rib but missed the major blood vessels and other organs. If I could have chosen a path for a bullet to the chest that would do the least amount of damage, I'd have chosen the exact path it took."

The icy weight lifted off Ranger's heart and let it beat again. He sucked in air.

"We repaired the lung and some damaged muscles and inserted a chest tube to reinflate the lung and drain fluid. The rib is cracked and is going to be painful for several weeks, but it should heal up no problem. The incision from the surgery will also probably be painful as it heals. She's being admitted to the Intensive Care Unit for the rest of the night, and if her breathing is stable in the morning she'll go to a post-surgical room. Any questions?"

"When can I see her?" Ranger asked.

"She's going to be heavily medicated, and family only may sit with her in the ICU for a few minutes at a time. By morning she should begin to have periods of lucidity, though the pain medication will keep her groggy." The surgeon looked from Ranger to Morelli. "Anything else?"

Ranger shook his head. "Thank you, doctor."

_oOo_

_Five hours later_

Stephanie's eyes had been moving beneath their lids for the past half hour. Ranger sat in the straight chair beside her bed and held her hand. One of the night nurses in the ICU knew Stephanie, and she'd bent the rules and allowed him to stay.

When he and Morelli had arrived at the ICU the nurse was in the glass-walled room with Stephanie. As soon as she finished taking vitals and came back out to the desk, Joe Morelli had given her his charming smile, calling her by name. "Hey, Suzy, how've you been?"

Suzy was a tiny woman of around thirty, ash blonde hair in a ponytail, long-sleeved cotton scrub jacket in a yellow and orange sunshine print covering solid blue scrubs. "Good, Joe. I heard you and Stephanie got engaged. Congratulations."

Joe glanced to the left, not meeting her eyes. "Uh, thanks."

"The rules say family only, but I guess being engaged is about as close as you can get. Just a few minutes, though. Steph's had a good dose of pain medication and probably won't wake up for hours." Suzy led him into the cubicle where Stephanie lay swathed in white, tubes and wires attached everywhere, machines beeping to affirm that her heart still beat.

Ranger stood at the nurse's station, waiting. "Can I help you?" Suzy asked when she came back, her voice sultry, her green eyes raking down Ranger's body and back up again.

"I'm here for Stephanie."

"And you are…?"

"Ricardo Manoso. Her medical power of attorney." He kept his voice hushed so that Morelli wouldn't hear. No point in courting trouble.

Suzy opened the chart, studied it, looked puzzled. "What about her parents? Why aren't they here?"

Ranger just moved a shoulder and looked blank. He hadn't called them, and he guessed Morelli hadn't either. It was just as well. They'd find out in the morning and be spared the agonizing wait he'd experienced.

"Well, you can go in for a few minutes after Joe comes out." Suzy busied herself at the computer, muttering something about two hot men and some women having all the luck.

Joe came out after five minutes and stopped to talk to Ranger. "She doesn't look good. I've got to catch a few hours of sleep before I go on shift in the morning, but I'll be back tomorrow. And Manoso, I guess you saved her life, so thanks." He held out his hand and Ranger shook it.

Once Morelli was gone Ranger sat in the chair beside Stephanie's bed. Morelli was wrong about her not looking good, he thought. Stephanie alive and breathing was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. He held her hand and murmured to her, telling her how brave she was, how strong, how much he loved her.

After fifteen minutes Suzy came to the entrance of the cubicle to tell him he had to leave, but the tenderness on his face, the way he held Stephanie's hand, pressed his lips to her fingers, changed her mind and she went back to her charting.

Hours later Stephanie's eyes drifted open, deepwater blue in the dim light of the windowless room. "Ranger?" Her voice was weak and hoarse, and she gave a little cough.

Ranger squeezed her hand. "Right here, Babe. Relax. You need to rest."

Her eyes rolled around the room. "Hospital?"

He kept his voice quiet and soothing. "That's right."

Her eyes closed and he thought she'd fallen asleep. But that weak voice came again. "He shot me."

"Yeah, but you stunned him. He's in custody and Carl Costanza's getting your body receipt for you."

A tiny smile curved Stephanie's lips and she opened her eyes again. "Crazy Carl," she said.

Ranger smiled back at her. "Sleep now, Babe."

Her heavy lids drooped shut and she was silent for a few minutes. Just when Ranger thought she was asleep her lips parted in a whisper so soft it was almost inaudible. "I love you, Carlos."

His heart sang and his eyes stung, but all he did was squeeze her hand, brush his lips over the backs of her fingers and whisper, "I love you, Stephanie."

_TBC_


	93. Heaven Here 3

**Heaven Here 3**

"Oh, dear, Stephanie, how could this happen?" Mrs. Plum came twittering into Stephanie's room just after nine a.m. accompanied by Grandma Mazur, with Mr. Plum trailing behind. "What did you do to make that nice Mickey Lauder want to shoot you? He was such a good boy in high school, and so handsome. You know we hoped he and Valerie would get married, but once she met Steve, well, she didn't have eyes for anyone else."

Ranger shifted his weight preparing to rise from his seat by Stephanie's bed, intending to step back out of the way, but Stephanie gripped his hand with surprising strength and looked at him with beseeching eyes. Her voice was so weak it was just a breath. "Don't leave me."

She'd been moved to a post-surgical floor, and a few words from Ranger to the nurse had landed them in a private VIP room.

"We just found out a little while ago," Mrs. Plum continued. "Why didn't you call us right away? Why do I always have to hear about you from the neighbors?"

Stephanie coughed, the fluid rattling in her chest, and Ranger slipped an arm underneath her, careful not to touch her wounded shoulder or the huge incision from her surgery that circled from just below her left breast around to her shoulder blade. He supported her as she rolled toward him onto her right elbow, still coughing. Her left arm was immobilized against her body to keep the sutures and broken rib stable, and it made it difficult for her to maneuver.

Her face was so pale it was almost transparent, her lips blue around the edges, and she looked so ill Ranger frowned as he lowered her back to the bed, watching her gasp for air through her mouth.

"Criminey, you sure do look sick," Grandma said. "What did it feel like, getting shot? I read somewhere that it was like getting punched with a giant's fist. Did it hurt a lot?"

"Stephanie, I got ten phone calls last night saying you were having dinner at Rossini's with some strange man. Why didn't you answer your phone?" Mrs. Plum was up against the side of the bed opposite Ranger staring at their joined hands.

The pulse-ox monitor that Stephanie wore on her finger began to sound an alarm and Ranger looked at the machine. Eighty-two, not good. He reached down beside the bed with his free hand and grabbed the hanging call button, pressing it. Stephanie's mother and grandmother were both hovering over Stephanie, both talking, and the voice from the nurse's station that came through the intercom went unnoticed.

"Lois Seltzman's daughter Margaret works in the emergency room. She called Lois first thing this morning to tell her you got shot, and Lois called me right away." Mrs. Plum just went on and on. Perhaps she was concerned for Stephanie, but it appeared to Ranger that she was mostly concerned that she was one of the last ones to find out Stephanie was in the hospital.

"Where's Joseph?" Grandma Mazur chimed in, interrupting Mrs. Plum's monologue. "We tried to call him, but he didn't answer his phone."

Not getting any response from Stephanie, Mrs. Plum turned her attention to Ranger. "Who are you, and why are you here with Stephanie instead of Joseph?"

Stephanie's eyes were closed, but Ranger observed a tear drip out the corner of her eye and run down the side of her face into her hair. He stood up and leaned over the bed, about to put and end to the visit, but at that moment Jean Newman, Stephanie's nurse, a large forty-ish woman from the Burg with short brown hair and keen gray eyes, came through the door. She sized up the situation with one quick glance.

"Excuse me," she said, but with both Mrs. Plum and Grandma talking at once, nobody heard her. She walked over to the bed and glanced down at Stephanie, frowning in concern at her drawn face and shadowed eyes, then grabbed Mrs. Plum and Mrs. Mazur by the arms and pulled them away from the bed.

"Okay, Helen, Edna, that's enough." Her voice was sharp, like a mother speaking to squabbling children. "Stephanie needs to rest now, so you'll have to leave."

"But we just got here, and—" Mrs. Plum began, but she was no match for the stern, iron-jawed Jean.

"I'd suggest you go home now and call after lunch to see if Stephanie is up to having visitors."

"But we're her family." Mrs. Plum wasn't going to give up without an argument. "Stephanie needs her family at a time like this."

"Stephanie needs peace and quiet so she can heal." Jean still had Mrs. Plum's arm and escorted her out to the hallway.

"We'll come back later," Grandma Mazur called over her shoulder as she padded along after them.

Mr. Plum stopped by the bed. "I'm sorry, Pumpkin," he muttered. "You sleep now." He smoothed Stephanie's curls back and pressed his lips to her forehead.

The tears were still creeping down from the corners of Stephanie's closed eyes and as her father left the room and Ranger sat back down a sob escaped her.

Ranger leaned forward and pressed his lips against Stephanie's cheek, laying his left arm around her waist, trying to comfort her. "Shh, Babe, they're gone now. It's okay."

"Don't leave me," she mumbled. "Promise."

"I promise."

_oOo_

Stephanie hurt. Not just her chest and shoulder and rib where she was shot, but her head ached, her throat was raw, and it was still hard to breathe. Ranger had her bed cranked up to a sitting position and was holding a spoon of broth to her lips encouraging her to eat when Joe Morelli walked in.

"Hey, Cupcake," he said, his sexy grin replaced by a scowl when he saw Ranger. "You still here, Manoso? Don't you have some deals to wheel, some bail jumpers to nab?"

Ranger didn't even look at him, just kept scooping up spoonfuls and feeding them to Stephanie.

"So how you doing, Steph?" Joe said, slumping down into one of the easy chairs that furnished the VIP room and stretching his long, lean legs out. "Did you get some sleep?"

"A little." It was hard to talk, and Stephanie's voice came out weak and hoarse. Ranger lifted her cup of water so she could sip through the straw.

"How about some Jell-O, Babe?" he asked, jiggling a bowl of red gelatin in front of her.

She shook her head and leaned back against the pillow, closing her eyes and groping for his hand. She didn't want anything except to rest and be with Ranger. She wished she didn't hurt so much. She wanted his arms around her.

The three of them sat without speaking for a few minutes until the silence was shattered by someone tiptoeing, tap, tap, tap into the room.

"Oh, Joseph, I'm so glad you're here," Mrs. Plum said to Joe in a low voice that still grated, made Stephanie wince. "Is she awake?"

"She was a minute ago," Joe answered, and Stephanie opened her eyes.

"Hi, Mom," she croaked.

"Oh, I'm glad you're awake, Stephanie. I brought you some flowers." Her mother placed a large vase of carnations and lilies and chrysanthemums on Stephanie's bedside table. "I was talking with Father Mike this morning about possible dates for your wedding, and would you believe they already have someone scheduled for May sixteenth? You and Joseph need to get on the church calendar right away or all the good dates will be taken."

Joe slouched back and closed his eyes, making Stephanie want to throw something at him. Lucky for him she was hurting too much to get up and beat the crap out of him.

"Mom," she rasped, "we didn't get a chance to tell you yet, but Joe and I decided not to get married."

"Oh, come now, Stephanie, he gave you the Morelli family ring. Of course you're going to get married."

Stephanie closed her eyes for a moment, gathering strength for the argument she knew was coming. Taking in as much breath as she could, she said, "No, Mom, I gave the ring back. It was a mistake. We're not getting married."

Her mother turned to Joe. "Joseph, you have to do something about Stephanie. The two of you belong together."

Joe opened his eyes. "Not my decision." He shrugged and held his hands out to the side, palms up, and if she could have found the breath Stephanie would have screamed.

"Mom, thanks for the flowers and for coming to visit, but it's time for me to rest…" Stephanie's voice cracked and she began coughing. Ranger wrapped his arm around her with great gentleness and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

Joe stood up. "Come on, Helen, I'll walk you out to your car. See you later, Cupcake."

Mrs. Plum gave Ranger a dark look, but her expression softened when she saw Stephanie's wan face. "All right, I'll let you rest. Your grandmother wants to come and see you tonight, so we'll be back after dinner."

As soon as they were gone the nurse, Jean, came back in and checked Stephanie over, shaking her head and making concerned sounds. "I'm going to get the doctor to restrict you to one visitor at a time."

Stephanie looked panicked. "But I need Ranger."

"One in addition to Ranger. Now, let's get you up again. You can go to the bathroom and then take a nice nap."

It was an arduous journey, Stephanie had discovered a few hours earlier. The objective was to get her up and walking around as soon as possible, but her knees wobbled and Jean had to support most of her weight. Ranger carried the drainage container for the chest tube and wheeled the IV pole. At least Jean had given Stephanie a second hospital gown to wear backwards over the first so her ass didn't hang out. That would have been the ultimate humiliation.

When she staggered back out, her bed was reclined again, and both Jean and Ranger helped her get in and lie back down. Once she was settled, Jean asked, "Do you need more pain medication? It's time for another dose if you want it."

Stephanie nodded.

Jean went for the medication, returning with a syringe and injecting it into the IV port. After she bustled back out Ranger leaned over and kissed Stephanie on the cheek. "Do you need anything else before your nap?"

"Could you just hold me for a little while?" she asked, looking into his eyes and seeing the concern.

"Any time, Babe."

Ranger helped her turn onto her good side and toed his boots off, slipping into the bed behind her, sliding his right arm under her neck and supporting her against his chest. His warmth, the weight of his arm around her waist was better than any pain medicine and Stephanie drifted off to sleep.

As her breathing changed with sleep Ranger felt a lightness of being, a joy he hadn't experienced in ten years. Stephanie wasn't going to marry Joe Morelli. Having her in his arms like this was a taste of heaven and he soon joined her in slumber.

_TBC_


	94. Heaven Here 4

**Heaven Here 4**

Just before Stephanie's dinner arrived, Ranger's phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket with his right hand, his left entwined with Stephanie's on the bed beside her. He'd moved to the chair to get out of the way when the aide came in to check Stephanie's vitals. He'd given the young woman a look as he climbed out of the bed and she'd blinked and blushed and probably forgotten her own name.

"Yo," he answered the phone. He listened for a minute and said, "You and Les will have to handle it. You're more than capable."

He listened again. "I'm going to be offline for at least a week."

After a few more business-related instructions and answers he said, "Put Les on."

He gave Lester some orders, telling him to go to the bunker and pick up a bag there, then turned to Stephanie. "Les is going to bring me some clean clothes. Do you want him to stop at your apartment and pick up anything for you?"

"But he doesn't have a key," Stephanie whispered, still hoarse.

Ranger looked at her, one corner of his mouth twitching. "Babe."

She cleared her throat. "Yes, please, I need…"

She began to reel off a list of items and Ranger stopped her, holding out the phone. "Tell Les."

"Hi, Les," Stephanie croaked.

"Hey, Steph, how's the prettiest waitress in Jersey?" Lester's smile was in his voice and it took Stephanie back, remembering his suggestive grin, the way he joked around, how he'd made her a little uncomfortable at first. But by the end of the summer she'd loved him like a brother. Her heart ached, because in her mind Les and Julio would always be together, best friends.

"I'm hanging in there." She told him what she needed and where to find it in her apartment, stopping every other sentence for a couple of breaths.

"Okay, beautiful, I'll see you a bit later."

Stephanie had graduated from a liquid diet to soft food, but the poached egg and mashed potatoes with gravy the food service delivered for dinner didn't look very appetizing.

"You need to eat, Babe." Ranger picked up a spoon and began feeding her small bites of egg. "Got to build up your strength so you can get out of here."

Stephanie opened her mouth like an obedient child for him, eating the whole egg and half of the mashed potatoes before gesturing at the pudding.

An hour later Stephanie was sitting on Ranger's lap in the easy chair beside the bed when Lester walked in the door. He was dressed in black cargoes and a black t-shirt and carrying a black duffel, a navy canvas tote, and a take-out bag from Rossini's. His grin was enormous as he set the food on Stephanie's rolling table.

"There she is," he said, "the juciest Plum in Trenton. I can see Ranger is doing just fine, but how are you?"

"It's so good to see you, Les." Stephanie reached her good arm out to him and pulled his head down for a kiss on the cheek.

"I'd give you a big hug and a real kiss," he said, "but I don't want to hurt you. And," he winked at her, "I don't want Ranger to hurt me."

Ranger gathered Stephanie to his chest and scowled at Les.

"Here you go, boss, as ordered. One for you and one for Steph." He dropped the duffel and tote bag beside them and sat down in the facing lounger.

Ranger stood, lifting Stephanie with him as if she weighed nothing and placing her back on the bed, pulling the sheet up over her bare legs. "I need to take a quick shower and change," he said, tucking a curl behind her ear and touching his lips to hers. "Is it okay if Les keeps you company for a few minutes?"

Stephanie nodded. She wanted to put on some pajama pants and do something with her hair, but with her arm strapped to her body she'd need help. It could wait until Ranger showered. A private shower was one of the perks of the VIP room, and she couldn't wait until the doctor told her it was okay for her to use it.

"So Les," she said, after clearing the hoarseness from her throat, "Ranger says you're a security expert. How did that happen?"

Five minutes later she was giggling at Lester's stories when Ranger walked out of the bathroom barefoot, wearing just a pair of black cargo pants low on his hips, wet hair dripping glistening droplets of water onto his rock-hard pecs. His face was dark with two days of stubble, and coupled with the scars on his face and body it gave him a dangerous, seductive look. Stephanie stopped laughing and stared at him, her tongue peeping out to moisten suddenly dry lips, her eyes darkening to indigo as they locked with his.

And at that exact moment Helen Plum walked in the door, saying, "What's all this about only one visitor at a…" She stopped mid-sentence and stared at Ranger's bare torso. "What's going on here?"

Lester rose. "Well, I'd better get back to work. Real slave-driver for a boss, you know." He bent over the bed and kissed Stephanie on the cheek. "You just relax, sweetheart, and you'll be out of here in no time."

Mrs. Plum frowned at him in disapproval, and he nodded and said, "Ma'am," as he passed her on his way out the door.

"Stephanie, your grandmother is waiting down in the lounge because they told us only one visitor at a time." She turned to Ranger, who was toweling his hair. "Why are you still here?"

He didn't say anything, just reached into his duffel for a t-shirt.

"Ranger's here because I want him here," Stephanie said, gasping for air and starting to cough. Ranger hurried over, shirt in his hand, and helped her lean forward to ease the coughing. She rested her cheek against his bare chest. "He saved my life, Mom."

Her mother sputtered a little at the tender scene. "Well, I think Joseph should be here. He's your fiancé, after all."

Stephanie managed to get enough breath to sigh. "Mom, I told you we're not getting married. Joe's just a friend." A fuck buddy, she was thinking but restrained herself from saying it. "Now why don't you send Grandma in for a few minutes?"

_oOo_

At six the next morning daylight was just beginning to seep in around the closed blinds of the hospital room. Ranger lay in bed with Stephanie, awake but not inclined to get up. The feel of her, the softness of her body against his, gave him a peace that had been missing from his life ever since he joined the army. He wanted to stay here forever, though he knew the nurse would be in soon to check Stephanie and give her medication before the seven a.m. shift change.

"Aww, ain't that sweet," rumbled a deep voice from the door, and Ranger rolled out of bed. Stephanie opened her eyes and groped for his hand as he sat down in his chair beside the bed.

"Hey, Tank," she croaked as he moved into her field of vision. She coughed and cleared her throat, sipped the water Ranger held for her before she could continue. "Long time no see."

Tank's dark coffee face brightened as he looked down at her. "There she is, already a legend in Trenton. The bounty hunter who took down Mickey Lauder."

Stephanie couldn't suppress her own grin at the sight of the huge black man. "You haven't changed a bit," she said, "except you're even bigger than I remember." He was dressed in black cargoes and a t-shirt identical to Ranger's, identical to what Lester had been wearing the night before. It must be the work uniform for RangeMan, she decided.

Tank sat down in the recliner opposite Ranger. "Boss has had us in a tizzy all week, but now we get it."

Ranger looked at him, blank face on. "What do you want?"

"Well, actually I'm here to offer to stay with Steph, guard her while you take the Canton meeting."

Ranger shook his head. "You and Les can handle it."

"Man, you look so good in your suit, talk so smart like a big executive, and I look like a thug, talk like a soldier." Tank's headshake mirrored Ranger's.

"Just wear your regular work clothes," Ranger said, "and let Les explain the system details. Be sure he hits all the benefits."

Tank shrugged. "Okay, you're the boss. But if we blow it, it's on you."

"Don't blow it," Ranger growled.

They talked about other business for a few minutes, and when the night nurse came in with some pills for Stephanie, Tank got up.

"Take it easy, Steph," he said, patting her uninjured shoulder before walking out the door.

After the nurse left Stephanie studied Ranger's face. "Ranger," she said, "I don't want to keep you away from your business. If you have a meeting today you should go."

He shook his head. "No, I won't leave you."

A warm flush washed over Stephanie and she squeezed his hand and closed her eyes.

_TBC_


	95. Heaven Here 5

_Warning: A little smut_

**Heaven Here 5**

_Two days later, Sunday afternoon_

"This is your discharge. Sign here," said the weekend nurse, laying a sheaf of papers on Stephanie's rolling table and handing her a pen. "It just says that we've gone over the instructions with you and you understand them."

Stephanie glanced over at Ranger and scribbled her name. He nodded encouragement. She might not remember all the instructions, but he would.

The chest tube had been removed the day before and Stephanie had been dressed in her shorts and t-shirt for hours, just waiting to be released. Her final chest x-ray was taken at 9 a.m. but the doctor hadn't showed up until lunchtime, and then it had taken another hour for the paperwork to be ready.

She was dying to get out of the hospital, especially because her mother was probably going to be in to visit her any minute. Joe, too. She hadn't known yesterday when she saw them that she was going to be released today, and she was hoping to escape before they got there. Her mother hadn't given up on the idea that she should marry Joe, although it was pretty obvious Joe had. He was just going through the motions, probably figuring he'd get her back in bed and everything would go back to the way it was before the whole engagement debacle.

She'd just go home and call them when she got there.

Her breathing was much easier, and the pain had dulled down so that if she was careful how she moved it wasn't too bad. She could walk well enough to go to the bathroom herself, and she'd had her first shower that morning. It felt wonderful, though it was a bit awkward shaving her legs and washing her hair one-handed. They'd put waterproof bandages over her sutures and unstrapped her left arm for the shower. She could move the arm, but it hurt too much to raise it up over her head. She was supposed to wear the immobilizer sling during the day until she saw the doctor on Friday to get her stitches out.

"These prescriptions are for pain medicine, antibiotics and an inhaler to help your breathing," the nurse continued. "The antibiotics are twice a day for ten days, and the inhaler is twice a day until you see the doctor again. You should fill all three so you have the pain pills if you need them."

An aide brought a wheelchair into the room.

"I can walk," Stephanie said when she saw it.

"Hospital rules," the nurse answered. "I have to wheel you out to your vehicle." She looked at Ranger. "Do you need a few minutes to bring your car around to the main entrance?"

Ranger shook his head. "A car is waiting outside."

Stephanie looked at him, but she wasn't surprised. He had a way of making things happen, like restricting her to one visitor at a time so her family couldn't gang up on her, like getting her this private room. And he'd been on his phone issuing instructions when she came out of the shower this morning, so she was certain he had everything organized.

The August heat covered them like a wet blanket as the nurse wheeled Stephanie out the automatic doors at the front of the hospital. Ranger was right beside her, his hand on her good shoulder the whole way down in the elevator and through the halls. The moment they walked outside a big black SUV with tinted windows pulled up.

Ranger reached for Stephanie as if to pick her up, but she stopped him. "No, Ranger, let me get up myself. If you baby me I'll never get my strength back."

He steadied her as she climbed into the backseat of the vehicle and then followed her in. "This is Bobby Brown," he said. "Bobby, Stephanie Plum."

Bobby was a handsome man with dark skin and a short military haircut. He swiveled around to reveal bright white teeth and a wide grin. "_Very_ pleased to meet you, Ms. Plum. I've heard a lot about you."

"Okay, let's go." Ranger scowled at him and Bobby put the car in gear and rolled toward the street.

"Where are we going?" Stephanie asked as they drove out Hamilton Avenue and went right past St. James and her apartment.

"My house," Ranger said.

"But my things…"

"All packed and in the back."

"Who packed them?" Stephanie asked, hoping that Les hadn't been pawing through her underwear drawer.

"My housekeeper."

"You have a housekeeper?" Stephanie knew Ranger had an office building and there was an apartment for him under construction, that he was living temporarily in the basement of another building he owned until his apartment was ready. But this was the first she'd heard of a house and a housekeeper.

"Well, she works for RangeMan. She and her husband take care of the building and she's furnishing the new apartment for me. I asked her to pack whatever she thought you'd need for a week at the beach."

"The beach?" she asked.

Ranger nodded.

Stephanie was starting to feel dizzy, having trouble absorbing all this information, so she decided to just go with the flow. She trusted Ranger with her life, and they'd just spent four straight days together. When he made a promise, he meant it, she'd discovered. He hadn't left her side except to use the bathroom and shower the whole time she was in the hospital, even walking down to the x-ray department and waiting outside while she had her daily chest x-rays.

He had his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Wake up, Babe." His low voice brought her back to consciousness. "We're here."

Stephanie opened her eyes just in time to see Ranger take an electronic key fob from his pocket and aim it at a sturdy iron gate in a high brick wall. She blinked and looked again. Hanging from the key fob was a pewter Batman logo keychain. It was exactly like the one she'd given to him that summer in Point Pleasant for his twentieth birthday, and she wondered if he'd kept it all this time.

"Is this the Batcave?" she mumbled, thinking she might be dreaming.

Ranger grinned at her, almost stopping her heart with his beauty. "Yeah, you might say that."

The memories came rushing back and Stephanie's hand went to the center of her chest to touch the heart-shaped sapphire that lay beneath her shirt. It and the blue lace thong had been the only things she'd been wearing that survived the shooting, sealed by someone at the hospital into a large plastic bag labeled with her name. Stephanie had slipped the necklace on and tucked it into her shirt when she got dressed today.

The gates opened and they drove through onto a crushed shell driveway that wound through low trees and thick brush. The sight of the house had Stephanie blinking again. It was a large, modern place of creamy stucco and she could see the ocean beyond.

"Where are we?" she asked, not recognizing the beach.

"Mantoloking," Ranger answered, pointing his key fob again to open a double garage door at one end of the house so the SUV could pull in next to the Porsche Turbo already parked there. He opened the car door and guided her out, keeping his arm around her. There was a full flight of stairs going up to a landing and a door, and Ranger pointed the key fob and pressed one more time. Stephanie heard the click of the security lock just before he scooped her up in his arms and carried her up the steps.

"I can walk," she laughed, wrapping her good arm around his neck.

He smiled at her. "I know."

Stephanie gasped as Ranger carried her into the house and down a short hallway before setting her on her feet. The main floor was one huge room, a kitchen area to one side, a dining area to the other, living room, or great room she guessed it would be called, stretching across the whole front of the building. But what held her attention was the two-story-high wall of glass framing ocean and sky.

She walked straight to the windows, unable to tear her eyes from the view. The floor was level with the top of the dunes, and she could look down on the beach or out at the sparkling waves breaking onto the sand.

"Where do you want this, boss?" Bobby's voice came from behind her, but Stephanie was too mesmerized by the sun flashing off the water to pay attention.

"Right there's good," Ranger said. "I'll take it upstairs later."

Stephanie heard the sounds of their footsteps going to the door, low voices talking. The house was cool and comfortable in spite of the staggering heat outside, and she stayed at the window until the door closed and Ranger was behind her. His warm, solid body pressed up against her back, his right arm pulled her tight and his left hand rested lightly on her hip, always careful of her injured side. He was hard, and she closed her eyes for a minute, lost in memories, in feeling, in desire.

"Do you like it, Babe?" he murmured, and she turned to face him, her good arm going around his neck.

"I love it, Batman" she whispered. "Thanks for bringing me here." She tipped her head back, her lips parted, and his came down to meet them. She moaned as his tongue touched hers, rocketing jets of desire through her, and he answered with a humming rumble down low in his chest.

Stephanie's breath was coming in short, sharp gasps and Ranger pulled his mouth away. "Easy, Babe. Maybe we shouldn't…"

"I want you," she breathed, and he picked her up and carried her over to the long, low sofa, sitting down with her on his lap.

"I don't want you to end up back in the hospital," he said, his voice rough and deep. "I think maybe you should take a nap."

"Only if you take one with me," Stephanie answered, pushing him sideways, trying to get him to lie down.

"Let me get my shoes off," he said, nudging her off his lap and removing the black boots and socks he wore with his cargoes and t-shirt. He untied Stephanie's white Keds and pulled them from her feet, tucking her below-the-ankle white socks into them.

Taking care with her injured side, he lifted her onto his lap and stretched out on his back on the couch. Stephanie swung one leg over so that she straddled his thighs and scooted up until her center came to rest on the impressive bulge in the front of his pants.

She squirmed, already damp, remembering the power of their lovemaking, the screaming doomsday orgasms, and leaned on her good arm as she lowered her upper body onto him. She hadn't been able to wear a bra because of the long incision, the sutures on her chest and back, and the exquisite eroticism of her nipples brushing over the carved-granite muscles of his chest produced a shiver of lust that raised goosebumps on her arms and legs.

Ranger's hands were clamped on her ass, and a groan tore from him.

Stephanie's immobilized arm was between their bellies, and she pushed herself back up, reaching for the buckle that held it. "I need this thing off," she said, and Ranger helped her with it.

"Be careful, Babe," he murmured as she slipped her forearm under his shoulder, keeping the upper arm against her side.

Their eyes locked, his dilated black and bottomless, her vibrant blue darkened to navy, bound together in a union of souls that had survived ten years apart, a bond that Stephanie didn't think could ever be broken. She saw the same love, knew that in spite of the outer shell he was still the same man as ten years before.

"Carlos," she whispered, and thrust her pelvis against him, gasping as painful waves of desire shuddered through her.

With a choking sound Ranger reached between them to unbutton her shorts so he could get both hands inside her waistband and on the bare skin of her buttocks, pressing her tight against him, his hips rotating to create friction. They were both panting by this time, moving to increase the delicious contact between them.

When Ranger took her mouth with his, tongues tangling, Stephanie burst into climax with a reverberation that he felt all the way to his toes. When she stuck her hand between them and fumbled his button open to grasp him with soft stroking fingers, Ranger gave up the effort to hold back and let himself join her in fevered release.

_TBC_


	96. Heaven Here 6

**Heaven Here 6**

They slept there on the couch together for a time. Ranger woke first and lay still, loving the feel of Stephanie sleeping limp on top of him, her face buried in his neck. Being with her again made him realize that he'd shut down his emotions, kept his feelings buried under impenetrable armor for the past ten years. Less than a week with Stephanie Plum had cracked his shell wide open, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. She held his future in her small, white hands. With just a few words she could bestow the ultimate happiness or rip his world to shreds.

He'd spent ten years trying to forget her, and he was through fighting it. The war was over and he'd surrendered. He loved her with everything he had, and he'd do anything to keep her. Whatever it took, he was prepared to do it.

Stephanie stirred, nuzzled her nose against his throat. "Mmm, I love the way you smell," she murmured.

He was hard underneath her again and she gyrated her hips, rubbing against him.

"Babe," he whispered.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asked, her voice muffled by his neck.

"God, no," he said. "I don't want you to ever stop."

"Okay, I won't, then," she answered, grinding a little more before raising her head to take his eyes prisoner with her oceans of blue. "But I need the bathroom now, and I think we both need to get changed." She gave one last little wriggle and grinned at him. "It's kind of sticky down there."

Ranger let the joy he felt at having Stephanie here light him up, and she gasped when she saw his expression, happiness, love, desire all wrapped up in one gorgeous face. He sat up, turning her to protect her injuries, and lifted her with him as he rose.

"Upstairs," he said, setting her on her feet but keeping his arm around her waist. "I'll bring your suitcase up."

A chime sounded from the kitchen area, and with a "Just a minute," Ranger let Stephanie go and strode to the entrance hallway to open a door that Stephanie hadn't noticed. She wandered over and looked in. It was like the cockpit of a spaceship, a curved console filled with monitors and dials and buttons.

Ranger was seated in a rolling chair looking at a screen that showed the main gate. As Stephanie watched over his shoulder, he typed in a code one-handed, the gate opened and a big black SUV rolled through. Ranger typed in a few more numbers and Stephanie heard the faint hum of the garage door opening.

"Who's here?" she asked.

"Bobby. I had him fill your prescriptions." Ranger turned and gave Stephanie his brilliant smile. "And get us some dinner. I didn't feel like cooking tonight so I hope you're in the mood for pizza."

Stephanie grinned. "I'm always in the mood for pizza."

So instead of going upstairs they stood side by side at the door, Ranger's arm around Stephanie's waist, and greeted Bobby. Stephanie gave him her beautiful smile and thanked him for getting her prescriptions and especially for picking up the pizza. She invited him to join them for dinner, but Bobby looked at the way Ranger stayed so close to her, how he couldn't keep his hands off her, and shook his head.

"Thanks," he said, "but I've got to get back to Trenton."

Ranger nodded and walked him to the door, pointing out the powder room to Stephanie so she could wash up before dinner.

The two of them sat at the round dining table side by side looking out at the beach and watching the light change as the sun dropped in the sky. Even though they were facing east, the clouds on the horizon changed from white to orange-gold while they ate.

Leftover pizza stored in the refrigerator, Ranger said, "Ready to go upstairs, Babe? We can unpack your suitcase and see if there's anything else you need."

Stephanie nodded and took a couple of deep breaths to help her make it up the flight of stairs. It was going to be weeks, maybe months before she was back to normal.

"Oh," she sighed, entering the bedroom that took up the entire top floor and walking straight across to the wall of windows facing west. The elevation was high enough for her to look over the low vegetation and see the wide stretch of water that was Barnegat Bay and beyond it the flatness of Jersey. The sun was a glowing red ball sitting on the horizon sending out streaks of pink and rays of orange that painted the sky like an impressionist's brush.

Ranger set the suitcase down on a bench at the foot of the bed and walked over to stand behind her.

"What a gorgeous sunset," Stephanie murmured as he wrapped his arms around her, kissed the nape of her neck.

"Doesn't hold a candle to you, Babe," he answered.

"I was looking at my hospital papers downstairs," she said after a minute, "and they say August twelfth. Is it really the twelfth?"

"Uh-huh."

She turned in his arms. "Happy birthday, Carlos." She reached up and pulled his head down so that she could press her lips to his.

"You remembered," he said.

Her lips pushed out in a little pout. "I'm sorry I don't have a present for you."

"I've got everything I want right here." He kissed her again, deep and hard, tongue probing.

Stephanie began pulling up the hem of her t-shirt. "We don't have any birthday cake."

He moved back a step to watch, her pale skin painted pink by the setting sun. "You taste better than any cake."

She pulled the top over her head with her right hand and let it fall down her left arm onto the floor. Her breasts were pink globes tipped with deeper pink, nipples hard with desire. Ranger reached out and touched the sapphire heart hanging between them.

"Is this…?"

She nodded as she removed it, setting it on the dresser. "And the Batman keychain?"

He nodded.

"I'll get you a birthday present tomorrow," she said, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling it up.

"All I want is you." He reached a hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck and finished removing the shirt, revealing the beautiful sculpted chest, the washboard abs, the scars that proclaimed his service.

"I'm yours," Stephanie said, undoing her shorts and letting them fall to the floor, stepping out of them.

He stared at her standing there in just a pair of white lace panties, and his eyes were deeper and darker than she thought possible. "I want more than just tonight, or tomorrow, Stephanie," he said, husky voiced. "I want it all, all of you."

She unbuttoned his cargoes, unzipped them, ran her hand down his narrow hip and muscled thigh to push them to the floor, her heart hammering to find him commando and ready. "You've got me," she answered, "all of me, body, heart, soul. For as long as you want me."

Ranger stood before her, naked, his desire monumental. "The rest of our lives?" he asked.

Stephanie hooked her thumb in the side of her panties. "Forever and ever if you want."

His eyes followed the progress of the panties downward to the floor. "I want."

Their bodies came together like magnets, skin on skin, mouths greedy, hands impatient.

Stephanie leaned back and looked into the dark chocolate of his eyes. "I love you, Carlos."

His answer was immediate. "I love you, Stephanie."

She smiled and guided him onto the bed, pressed his chest to make him lie back, climbed on top of him. Poised over him, the head of his cock nudging against her dripping entrance, she murmured, "Well, now that you've got all of me which part do you want first?"

He groaned. "Body."

And she sank down on him.

_oOo_

_A week later_

They awoke the following Sunday as they had every day for the past week, naked, arms and legs tangled, hearts twisted together in love. Also as they had each day previous, they began their day with an affirmation, a joining of their bodies.

After, they lay side by side on their backs, hips and thighs pressed together, fingers entwined.

"We need to go back to Trenton," Stephanie said. "It's been a week of heaven, but you have your business to take care of, and I need to get back to job hunting. The money from Lauder will get me out of the hole I'm in, but I'm not going to stay out unless I find work."

Ranger rolled toward her. "The doctor said you're not supposed to work for three more weeks."

"I know." Stephanie wrinkled her nose. "But I've got to start looking."

"You don't need to look for a job," Ranger said. "You've already got one."

Her eyes held his, regretful. "There's no way I can go back to bounty hunting until I'm completely healed. I can't chase down skips like this, and I'm pretty sure Vinnie's going to fire me anyway."

"I didn't mean bounty hunting," he told her. "You've got a job with RangeMan."

"What?!" she exclaimed. "Doing what? I'm not qualified. I'm not big and tough, and I don't know anything about security."

"You've got exactly what I need right now for the business, brains and instincts." His face was dead serious. "There's a lot of office work, important stuff like background searches that you could do. And we need a woman's input on some of the home security we're getting into. I need someone like you, someone smart and persistent." Now a smile turned up his mouth. "And besides, Tank told me yesterday that the seventh floor apartment is ready, and I told Ella to get a bed but hold off on the rest until you could help her shop."

"Me?" Stephanie squeaked. "Why would I help furnish your apartment?"

His look said it was obvious. "Because it's going to be your apartment, too, Babe."

Stephanie closed her eyes and sighed deep and long. "So let me make sure I understand this. You want me to work for you. You want me to pick out furniture for you. And you want me to move in with you, is that right?"

She opened her eyes and rolled onto her side, staring at him.

"Yup, that's right." He smiled that enchanting smile that filled his face with the beauty of the divine. "Okay?"

Stephanie couldn't stop herself from smiling back, and her answer spilled out with all the love she felt for him. "Okay."

**TBC in Epilogue—Vindicated**

_A/N: The original 2006 Dusk and Summer CD had just ten songs, ending with Heaven Here. But the 2007 Deluxe Edition replaced "Stolen" with the faster radio/video version and added three more songs, including "Vindicated," the theme from the SpiderMan 2 movie. So although we're already at the HEA, there's an epilogue._


	97. Epilogue: Vindicated

_A/N: Thanks a million, billion, gazillion to everyone who supported me with reviews and feedback. Your kindness and encouragement means the world to me. Love you all, babes! __—Dee_

_oOo  
_

**Epilogue—Vindicated**

_Hope dangles on a string  
Like slow spinning redemption  
Winding in and winding out  
The shine of it has caught my eye  
And roped me in  
So mesmerizing, so hypnotizing  
I am captivated_

_—Chris Carrabba_

_oOo  
_

_Two months later, October_

Stephanie woke up to the sensation of blood thrumming through her veins and a hot mouth whispering over her body. She shivered, tensed, and when the mouth reached that certain spot an orgasm shuddered through her. She spread her legs wide and twisted her fingers in the thick silk of Ranger's hair, pulling until his mouth came up to meet hers, his body covering her in a blanket of fire and need. As he slipped inside her she arched up to meet him and surrendered to sensation.

After another shrieking, pulsating climax, they lay side by side on the king-size bed in the penthouse apartment on Haywood Street. Stephanie's broken rib was finally healed, and that fact had produced an exponential expansion in the diversity of their lovemaking. Ranger's inventiveness in bed was unsurpassed.

She rolled her head to look at the bedside clock then back, wrinkling her forehead at Ranger. "Hey, it's almost seven. Aren't you going running today?"

He gave her a lazy smile, the beauty of his face, the perfect proportions of his body gripping her heart as always. "Nope."

She stretched, catlike, and rolled toward him, putting her head on his shoulder and stroking a hand over the rocky ridges of his abs. "Does this mean you aren't dragging me down to the gym, either?"

He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted his mouth down to hers, his lips soft and yet demanding, his taste indescribable. "We're taking the day off, Babe. Happy birthday."

"Thanks. But I was going to draft the proposal for the Woods Company this morning. It's less than a week until the meeting, and I need to get the particulars of the security system from Les and the personnel estimates from Tank." Stephanie raised her eyebrows at him. "And I need to go shopping, get a couple more black suits. If you're going to drag me to all these meetings I need more business clothes."

"It'll have to wait a day or two." He grinned, his playful look making her heart flutter. "I've got plans, and you're my hostage for the day." The grin turned wolf-like, eyes darkening, and Stephanie rolled on top of him, her mouth working, lips nibbling around his pecs, teeth clamping onto his nipple turning his grin to an open-mouthed catching of breath.

"My turn for breakfast," she murmured against his abs, and kissed her way down the pathway to heaven.

_oOo_

"So where are we going?" Stephanie asked as Ranger drove the Turbo up the ramp and out of the garage.

"You'll have to wait and see. Remember, you're my prisoner today, and I've got handcuffs."

A flush of heat engulfed Stephanie, a turmoil of fear and excitement filling her at the idea of being handcuffed, at his mercy. Ranger couldn't prevent a laugh from bubbling out of his chest at the look on her face.

Stephanie pouted for show and relaxed into her seat, her absolute trust in Ranger assuring her that it was going to be a good day. After a few minutes she realized they were heading for the shore and happiness lit her face when they made the turn for Mantoloking. They'd spent almost every Sunday at the house there, some of the best days of Stephanie's life.

Her family, well, really her mother, hadn't been happy when she brought Ranger to dinner a week after they returned to Trenton. It conjured up the unpleasantness of ten years ago when Stephanie had been so innocent, thinking that if she loved him her family was bound to love him, too. This time she and Ranger were both prepared, and neither expected rejoicing at the announcement that Stephanie had moved in with him, though they were hoping for acceptance.

The opposition was so vehement that they hadn't stayed for dessert, nor had they been back since. And when she got around to returning her mother's plethora of phone calls Stephanie flat-out refused to discuss her relationship, telling her mother that in no uncertain terms. After thirty years under her mother's thumb, always seeking the approval that was never unconditional, she hadn't realized how liberating it would be to just say no. So now she and Mrs. Plum had a polite, stilted phone call once a week, carefully avoiding any relationship topics.

Ranger's family, on the other hand, had been overjoyed that their beloved Carlos had found a woman he loved. And Stephanie discovered that flan rivaled pineapple upside down cake as the best dessert ever.

_oOo_

Ranger spent the drive in his usual zone, thinking and planning. Thinking about what an asset Stephanie was to RangeMan and congratulating himself for convincing her to work for him. Planning how he was going to engineer the events of the day to get the result he wanted. He found his chest tight with uncharacteristic nervousness. He knew without doubt that Stephanie loved him, but he wasn't a hundred percent certain how she was going to react. She had a way of surprising him, always.

He slid his eyes sideways to assess her mood. She sat relaxed back into the leather seat of the Turbo, the beautiful blue eyes bright and curious, her full lips curved in a half-smile. He'd chosen this car for the drive today because he knew it was her favorite of all his cars.

One of the pluses of having Stephanie work for RangeMan was that he could give her a company car. He'd chosen a Mazda MX-5 hardtop convertible, similar to the one that had been repossessed when she was unemployed, except in a glossy black. It was gratifying to watch the way the joy lit up her face when he took her down to the garage and gave her the keys.

It turned out that with her business background Stephanie was a natural at sales and marketing. She was a real people person, with a knack for seeing what was most important to a prospective client and keeping it front and center. One of the first things she did, even before she was supposed to be back at work after her surgery, was take over preparation of new business proposals. As soon as she was able, Ranger began to include her in all his meetings, respecting her input and evaluation as well as her power to charm the customers. In less than two months she was as valuable to the business as Tank or Lester.

Ranger had been apprehensive about Mrs. Plum's constant pressure for Stephanie to go back to Joe Morelli. Stephanie had been raised to respect her elders, especially her mother, and had spent her whole life trying to conform, to gain approval. But she'd shown a strength that surprised and delighted him, limiting her contact with her family. She'd decided she would no longer put up with her mother's pressure, the constant harping, and she'd stuck with her decision. And it helped that Morelli had just kind of faded away once Stephanie moved in with Ranger. The last Ranger heard he was seeing Suzy, the ICU nurse.

It was a tremendous relief that Stephanie had recovered so well from the gunshot wound. In spite of her teasing about him making her work out in the gym, she'd been faithful in doing the rehab program prescribed by the physical therapist. She'd gone to the PT office a few times, and then gotten an outline of the treatment so that she could do it on her own in the gym at RangeMan. Ranger still felt pangs of guilt when he saw the ugly scars marring her creamy skin, but whenever she sensed that he was blaming himself Stephanie would tell him in no uncertain terms that it wasn't his fault. She'd thank him again for saving her life, telling him how lucky she was that he had such good instincts.

Every time he looked at her he knew he was the lucky one.

_oOo_

They walked hand in hand up the steps into the beach house. As always Stephanie was drawn to the wall of windows looking out over the ocean. No sunbathers were out on the sand in October, but the sun was warm and numerous people walked or jogged on the beach.

Ranger came over to stand behind her, snaking his arms around her waist, and she turned into him.

"What a gorgeous day," she murmured, raising her face for his kiss. "Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?"

"Sounds good," he said.

As they moved across the great room Stephanie spotted something that she'd missed in her beeline to the windows.

"Oh," she exclaimed, "presents. And is that a cake?" She skipped over to the dining table. On its gleaming surface was a small pile of wrapped gifts and a white bakery box. "Omigod, from the Tasty Pastry? How did you know?"

Ranger looked down his nose at her. "The great Manoso sees all, knows all." But his twitching lips betrayed him and she spun toward him and leaped, her arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He caught her with ease and hugged her tight. "It's a special birthday, so I wanted to make it special for you."

Stephanie wrinkled her nose. "Don't remind me. Thirty, jeez. Does this mean I have to grow up?"

"No way," Ranger answered. "You're still the nineteen-year-old girl I fell in love with, and I don't want you to ever change."

Stephanie returned his kiss with enthusiasm and then dropped her legs to the floor. "So when can I open my presents?"

"Whenever you want. It's your birthday, after all."

Stephanie pursed her lips, considering. "Let's go for our walk first and I'll open them when we get back."

The sand glowed gold with the brightness of the sun, and gulls soared overhead, their raucous calls floating on the balmy breeze as Ranger and Stephanie walked at the edge of the water holding hands. The tide was receding and Stephanie scuffed along and picked up shells and bits of flotsam, enjoying the beauty of the day. There was no place on earth she loved better than the beach, and nobody in the world she'd rather be with.

After a light lunch of salad and bread and cheese, Stephanie opened her presents, an exquisite diamond and sapphire necklace and earrings and bracelet, a gorgeous embossed black leather messenger bag that would be perfect for business meetings, and a new state-of-the-art laptop.

"Oh, Carlos," Stephanie said, sitting on his lap on the couch. "This is just too much."

He shook his head. "It's just a token, just a small way of showing you how much I love you."

She pressed her lips to his. "I love you, too. Thank you so much."

His mouth took control, and the fever of his kiss sparked straight through Stephanie, prickling her skin and making her go damp with desire.

"Let's go upstairs," she murmured.

"Don't you want cake?"

"Bring it up." Her grin was wicked. "That way I can have my cake and eat you, too."

_oOo_

After they showered again and dressed, Ranger led Stephanie downstairs to the couch.

"I have one more thing for you," he said, sitting and gathering her onto his lap.

She leaned back against his chest and looked out at the Atlantic. "But you've already given me so much."

"There's a story that goes with this one." He rested his cheek against her hair. "This is something I bought for you nine years ago."

Stephanie turned her head to stare at him. "Nine years ago? You were in the army and, mmm, I must have been at Rutgers."

Ranger used a hand to bring her head back to his chest and stared out at the sea, remembering. "I had a week of leave before I started Officers Candidate School in September, and I came back to see you."

"But you never came to see me." He couldn't see her eyes but the hurt showed plain in her voice. "Did you change your mind?"

"I came to your apartment early one morning." The agony of that morning still tore at Ranger's heart. "Just as I arrived, you came out with Dickie and got in his car and drove away. So I went back to Georgia."

Stephanie swung around to straddle him, framing his face in her hands, tears glistening in her eyes. "When exactly was it? Because I wasn't with Dickie. I didn't date at all until after I heard you'd gotten married, and that was just before my senior year. This would have been junior year, right?"

"Yes, it was the first of September, the first week of school for you."

The realization came clear on Stephanie's face. "The first week of school junior year my grandfather had a heart attack, a bad one. My mom called me from the hospital really early in the morning and Dickie's older sister was working there. She called Dickie to give me a ride back to Trenton."

Ranger's face went blank. "You weren't with him?"

Stephanie shook her head.

"Then I'm an idiot, and it cost us nine years."

Stephanie brushed her lips across his, sweet and tender. "There's no way you could have known. And we're together now. That's all that matters."

Ranger just shook his head, eyes closed.

"Hey," Stephanie said, her hands still on his face, forefingers tapping his cheekbones to get his attention. "So what were you going to give me?"

Ranger cradled her in one arm and tipped her to the side so he could reach into his pocket. He produced a small, square aqua box and handed it to her. "This."

"Tiffany," Stephanie said, holding the box in both hands, staring at it.

"Open it, Babe."

She took the top off the box and gasped. The huge square-cut diamond blazed in the sunlight, mesmerizing, hypnotizing. Stephanie raised her eyes to Ranger's, the tears flooding over and running down her cheeks.

"Oh, Babe, don't cry," he said, drawing her close. "I love you with all my heart and soul. Marry me, Stephanie, please."

Stephanie buried her face in his neck, unable to contain the sobs that burst from her. "Yes," she wept. "Oh Carlos, I love you so much I don't know if I can stand it."

Ranger took the box from her hand and slipped the diamond on her finger. Its narrow platinum band was a perfect fit and the gemstone captured the sunlight shining through the window wall, refracting the light into dazzling prisms of brightness radiating across the room. Then he enveloped Stephanie in his arms and held her until the sobs quieted.

"There's something else," he said. "Remember the other day when I had to go to New York? Well, I stopped at Tiffany and got these." He produced another aqua box.

Stephanie's fingers shook as she opened it. "Oh, Carlos, they're perfect." Inside were matching platinum wedding bands, his and hers.

"So now all we have to do is figure out when we're getting married," Ranger said. "Whatever you want to do is fine with me. We can have a big celebration with all our friends and family, or if you'd prefer something small and quiet, that's fine, too."

Stephanie studied the ring sparkling on her finger. "I'm afraid once my mother finds out she's going to try to take over, and there's no way I'm going to let that happen. Can't we just elope or something?"

His smile blazed as bright as the ring as he produced a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. "Somehow I thought you might say that, so here's your last present."

Stephanie opened the sheet and read, "E-ticket confirmation, Continental Airlines… Newark to Las Vegas, first class, omigod, this is today!"

"I didn't know if you'd want to get married on your birthday or not, so this way we have some options. We get to Vegas at eight, plenty of time to get married tonight. Or if you'd rather not have our anniversary be the same day as your birthday, we could get married tomorrow. Or if you want to hold off on the wedding, we can just have some fun gambling, maybe see a show, and then fly home tomorrow night. Whatever you want, Babe." He held her eyes, waiting, hoping.

Stephanie bit her lip, looked at the diamond on her finger again, at the platinum bands in the box, at Ranger, and a joyous smile burst through. "Let's get married tonight. It's the best birthday present ever."

Ranger's smile was just as brilliant. "Can you be ready to leave for the airport in a half hour?"

She kissed him hard and long. "You bet your sweet ass I can."

And so they flew off into the sunset together, following the dusk westward.

_The end_


End file.
